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University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


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"Janey  Warren  paused  at  the  gate  to  look  at  the  scene  as 
she  had  done  a  hundred  times  since  her  return  in  May." 
(Frontispiece — see  page  20.) 


J{  Uineijard  Storij 


By  Eslella  Wighl 


A  Sequel  to  "In  the  Shelter  of  the  Little  Brown 
Cottage" 


Independence,  Missouri 

Published  by  the  Board  of  Publication  of  the  Reorganized 
Church  of  Jesus  Christ  of  Latter  Day  Saints 

1921 


Dedicated 

to 

The  IJoung  ITlen  and  TTldidens 

to  rohom  the  call  of  the  master 

comes  ringing  dou?n  through  the  ages, 

"Qo  u?ork  in  mq  uineuard 


CONTENTS 

Chapters  Page 

1.  The  Blackberry  Patch 9 

2.  The  Glen 20 

3.  A  Strong  Cord  32 

4.  Here  and  There 40 

5.  A  New  Friendship 47 

6.  The  Challenge  56 

7.  "We  Are  Brothers"  68 

8.  A  Letter  of  Introduction ...  78 

9.  An  Enemy  in  Camp  86 

10.  A  Sudden  Change  of  Temperature 96 

11.  The  Skating  Party 103 

12.  The  Debate  Ill 

13.  A  Cloud  in  the  June  Time  Sky ....118 

14.  "A  Fool  in  the  Forest"  128 

15.  The  Battle  Under  the  Stars  ....143 

16.  "The  Foolishness  of  Preaching"  157 

17.  "Lo,  I  Am  with  You  Alway"  173 

18.  The  Camp  at  Timber  Lake 181 

19.  Eyes,  Ears,  Knot  Holes,  and  Crevices 189 

20.  An  Informal  Announcement  217 

21.  "According  As  It  Is  Written"  225 

22.  In  Sheep's  Clothing 234 

23.  Pussy  Willows  245 

24.  A  Day  of  Compensations 256 

25.  "Whither  Thou  Goest"  261 

26.  An  Unlucky  Horseshoe  269 

27.  The  Straight  Furrow  ..  ...276 


28.  Wild  Roses  and  Forget-me-nots 287 

29.  From  Near  and  Far 296 

30.  "Only  a  Plodder"  309 

31.  The  New  Bakery  324 

32.  Commencement  Day  329 

33.  The  Path  of  His  Choosing  337 

34.  "A  Mere  Matter  of  Sentiment"  350 

35.  The  Cremation  of  Cleopatra 359 

36.  The  Richer  Meed  367 

37.  "Erodelphians"  373 

38.  "How  Blessed  Are  They  Who  Have  Labored 

Diligently  in  His  Vineyard"  ....  ...380 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Frontispiece:  Janey  Warren  paused  at  the  gate 
to  look  at  the  scene  as  she  had  done  a  hun- 
dred times  since  her  return  home  in  May. 

"It's  all  right,  son/'  the  older  man  spoke,  finally, 
laying  his  coarse,  toil-hardened  hand  on 
the  strong  young  shoulder.  .  .  .  "It's  all 
right.  -  .  .  I  reckon  you  can  do  as  you're 
a  mind  to" 32 

He,  however,  had  turned  on  the  instant,  and  with 
body  bent  forward  and  long,  firm  strokes, 
was  speeding  away  like  the  wind  toward 
the  scene  of  danger 96 

"That  so?  The  plans  must  be  far-reaching,"  sug- 
gested Robert,  looking  up  with  frank  ad- 
miration at  his  young  friend,  standing  so 
straight  and  slim  and  determined  before 
him  128 

"I'll  venture  Billy  never  told  it  that  way  at  all," 
Janey  evaded  irrelevantly.  .  .  .  "It's  just 
another  effort  of  Mr.  Midsby's  to  stir  up 
trouble  for  all  of  us"  253 

Twice,  three  times,  he  read  the  telegram  in  won- 
der and  uncertainty,  then  hurried  to  get 
the  Bible  out  of  his  valise  ..  ...256 


"Reckon  the  old  place  don't  seem  jest  as  home- 
like and  natural,  son,  as  it  used  to  'fore 
you  went  to  workin'  in  the  bank  an'  run- 
nin'  round  back  thar  in  them  well-settled 
States,"  remarked  Mr.  Gibson 288 

"I  didn't  make  the  agreement  to  do  all  the  preach- 
ing and  talking.  I  only  bargained  to  be  a 
missionary's  helpmate."  293 

The  evening  after  their  departure  Ned  and  Lu  sat 
down  to  their  lonely  supper  table  to  make 
a  pretense  of  eating 352 

" What's  brought  you  home  this  time  of  the  morn- 
ing?" she  asks.  ...  "I  thought  you  were 
going  to  be  unusually  busy  to-day" 384 


A  Uineqard  Story 


CHAPTER  1 
THE  BLACKBERRY  PATCH 

"Sing  a  song  of  sixpence, 

A  pocketful  of  rye; 
Four   and  twenty  blackberries 

Baked  in  a  pie; 
When  the  pie  was  open'd 

The  juice  began  to  run; 
Was   not  that   a   dainty  dish 

To  set  before  the  son?" 

sang  Lu  Warren,  as  out  among  the  dense  growth  of 
blackberry  vines  she  straightened  herself  for  a  mo- 
ment's relaxation  and  discovered  Robert  Clayton 
leisurely  sauntering  up  the  garden  path  toward  her. 

"Looking  for  Janey,  I'll  be  bound,"  she  soliloquized 
in  an  undertone,  "though  by  all  established  prece- 
dents he's  sure  to  ask  for  Ned.  Wait,  sage,  and 
watch  for  the  fulfillment  of  thy  prediction.  I'll  play 
a  game  on  him  this  time.  He'll  not  find  her."  And 
a  gleam  came  into  the  mischievous  brown  eyes  that 
peeped  out  from  under  her  brother  Ned's  old  straw 
hat. 

"Heigh-ho !"  called  back  the  young  man,  taking  off 
his  hat  and  swinging  it  high  in  the  air.  "A  very 
clever  parody,  but  the  little  maid  in  the  garden  had 
better  look  out  for  her  nose.  If  you  had  lived  in  the 
days  of  Mother  Goose  you  and  she  surely  would  have 
become  rivals.  I  think  I  like  your  version  best,  how- 
ever, for  I'd  choose  any  time  to  be  the  son  with  the 

9 


10  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

blackberry  pie,  in  preference  to  a  king  whose  eagerly 
longed-for  dessert  turned  out  to  be  a  squeaky  music 
box  instead  of  the  expected  delectable  dainty." 

"Hayeji't  a  doubt  of  it,"  retorted  Lu  quickly,  lift- 
ing her  hand,  as  if  in  alarm,  to  the  small,  sunburned 
nose;  "that  is,  manlike,  provided  some  one  else 
picked  the  berries  and  you  didn't  have  to  get  your 
own  p'recious  fingers  scratched  doing  it.  As  for  me, 
I've  about  come  to  the  conclusion  that  it  might  be 
about  as  well  to  have  one's  nose  snipped  off  as  to  have 
it  blistered  in  the  hot  sun,  and  that  it  would  be  lots 
more  fun  to  catch  the  blackbirds.  There  are  only 
eight  sharp  claws  to  each  blackbird,  and  by  actual 
count  there  are  fifty  thorns  to  every  berry.  Look  at 
that,  will  you?"  and  Lu  pulled  off  a  black  cotton 
glove,  showing  a  much-scratched  wrist  and  arm. 

"That's  a  shame!  You  ought  to  have  buckskin 
gloves,"  Robert  said,  sympathetically. 

"Mercy!"  exclaimed  the  girl.  "Such  a  luxury  is 
unknown  at  the  brown  cottage.  They'd  cost  more 
than  the  blackberries  are  worth.  Consequently  my 
poor  arms,  and  nose,  too,  must  be  martyrs  to  the 
cause,  since  mother  insists  that  all  on  account  of  a 
certain  young  man  in  our  neighborhood  having  a 
birthday  to-day  we  must  have  blackberry  pie  for 
supper.  I  brought  up  every  argument  I  could  think 
of  in  addition  to  the  scratches,  even  to  the  point  of 
stained  fingers  (and  you  know  the  county  fair  begins 
to-morrow  at  Lendhill) ,  but  to  no  avail.  Blackberry 
pie  it  must  be  and  blackberry  pie  it  shall  be,  and  I 
can  assure  you  that  you've  a  wise  preference  be- 


THE   BLACKBERRY   PATCH  11 

tween  the  berries  and  the  birds  of  the  colored  race, 
for  mother's  blackberry  pies  are  famous." 

"I'm  sure  of  it,"  Robert  concurred  heartily,  help- 
ing himself  liberally  at  the  first  bush  he  reached, 
"and  I  shall  partake  of  the  pie  with  all  due  meekness 
and  in  gratitude  to  the  young  lady  who  suffers  for 
my  sake." 

"Humble  pie  all  right  for  you,  when  I'm  obliged 
to  come  out  while  the  morning's  yet  'dew-pearled' 
and  get  my  clothes  all  bedraggled.  Dew-pearled 
morning,  I  say,  is  all  very  well  for  poetry,  but  it 
doesn't  work  well  in  practical  life.  It  takes  the 
starch  out  of  skirts  and  aprons  and  soaks  one's 
shoes,"  and  Lu  looked  ruefully  down  at  a  small,  soiled 
shoe,  and  then  pounced  further  into  the  patch  after 
an  immense  berry  that  tried  in  vain  to  hide  itself 
behind  a  leaf. 

"I  become  more  and  more  deeply  indebted,"  said 
Robert,  striding  into  the  patch  after  her  and  carry- 
ing the  bucket,  while  with  the  other  hand  he  con- 
tinued to  help  himself  generously  from  a  well-filled 
bush. 

"Oh,  I  mean  to  make  you  sense  the  full  extent  of 
my  sacrifices  for  you,"  Lu  called  back  over  her  shoul- 
der, from  under  the  ridiculously  big  straw  hat,  with 
its  torn  crown  and  floppy  brim.  "That's  the  way 
with  humanity,  you  know.  Whenever  we  make 
martyrs  of  ourselves  for  our  fellow  men,  we  endeavor 
to  make  them  realize  just  how  greatly  we  have  been 
inconvenienced,  and  what  it  cost  to  grant  the  favor, 


12  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

thereby  causing  the  other  fellow  to  feel  as  badly  as 
we  can." 

Robert  laughed.  "A  keen  insight  you  have  into 
human  nature,  Lu,"  he  said,  rather  thoughtfully. 
"Altogether  too  penetrating  to  satisfy  the  minds  of 
some  good,  well-meaning  people  who  may  think  their 
efforts  to  help  are  from  the  purest  motives.  I  see 
I  shall  have  to  look  well  to  my  motives  or  only  sar- 
casm may  be  the  reward  of  some  of  my  labors." 

"Well,  you  needn't  take  everything  to  yourself, 
even  if  you  do  have  to  eat  humble  pie.  I  was  only 
generalizing,  though  as  you  belong  to  the  human 
family,  you  must,  of  course,  be  'prone  to  all  mortal 
weaknesses  and  frailties  flesh  is  heir  to/  as  Deacon 
Rugby  used  to  say.  Well,  'open  confession  is  good 
for  the  soul/  says  the  old  adage,  and  I  deduce  from 
that  fact,  that  Deacon  Rugby  ought  to  be  a  wonder- 
fully good  man  by  the  time  he  reaches  his  three- 
score and  ten.  He's  always  so  willing  to  confess  his 
sins  and  shortcomings,  the  remedy  ought  to  be  effica- 
cious by  the  time  he  reaches  the  end  of  man's  allot- 
ment." 

Robert  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed  heartily. 
"Lu,"  he  declared,  "you've  a  great  head  for  a  little 
girl.  You'll  astonish  the  logicians  some  day." 

"Don't  be  patronizing.  I  can't  stand  it,  and  for 
flattery  I  have  no  liking.  Besides,  I'm  not  a  little 
girl.  I'm  fourteen,  if  you  please." 

"Oh,  begging  your  pardon — I  had  forgotten  you 
had  reached  such  mature  years,"  Robert  replied, 
dropping  a  handful  of  the  luscious  berries  into  the 


THE   BLACKBERRY   PATCH  13 

pail ;  and  then  added,  half  absently,  "Where's  Ned 
this  morning?" 

Lu  gave  one  sharp,  sidewise  glance  back  at  him, 
and  then  in  the  shadow  of  the  ragged  brim  of  the  old 
hat  made  a  comical  face,  but  her  voice  was  irrelevant 
and  demure  enough: 

"Who? — oh,  Ned  you  were  looking  for?  Why, 
he's  been  gone  a  good  two  hours  to  Farmer  Gray- 
son's — strange  you  didn't  know  he  was  going  out 
there  to-day !  Wise  prophetess !" 

"I — guess  I  did — but  forgot  this  morning.  What's 
that  about  a  prophetess  ?" 

"Merely  a  remark  I  made.  I  just  discovered  I  was 
one,  and  I  got  the  discovery  mixed  in  my  conversa- 
tion." 

"May  I  ask  what  occasioned  the  discovery?" 

"Why,  a  prediction  fulfilled,  of  course,  stupid." 

"Of  course,  but  what  does  it  concern?  Nothing 
disastrous  to  the  blackberry  pie,  I  hope." 

"Neither  the  pie  nor  the  berries,  though  I  must 
admit  that  you  are  more  disastrous  to  the  berry 
patch  than  anything  that's  struck  it  for  some  time." 

"Thanks,"  said  Robert,  unabashed,  and,  helping 
himself  again,  he  pushed  the  vines  apart  for  her. 
"But  now  since  you  have  discovered  you  are  a 
prophetess,  perhaps  you  are  a  preacher  also,  and 
can  give  me  a  sermon.  A  young  man  needs  at  least 
one  good  sermon  on  his  nineteenth  birthday." 

"I've  seen  some  I  thought  needed  more.  Lectures 
are  more  in  my  line.  However,  I'd  try  if  I  had  a 
text." 


14  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

"Blackberries,"  replied  the  young  man  quickly. 
"They're  as  good  as  any  text  I  know  of  at  present. 
Here's  another  lot  for  your  bucket.  Now  proceed. 
I'll  be  the  audience,  and  Robin  in  the  tree  will  be  the 
choir." 

"Very  well,  then,"  said  Lu,  turning  around,  push- 
ing back  the  old  hat,  and  giving  a  sweeping  gesture. 
"Please  be  attentive  and  proper,  and  pick  berries 
while  I  preach  the  sermon  (with  an  impressive 
bow) .  Brethren  and  friends,  I  take  for  my  text  this 
morning  one  that  has  been  selected  by  my  most 
venerable  parishioner,  who  has  made  a  special  re- 
quest that  I  talk  to  you  upon  this  subject.  (Deacon 
Rugby,  you  will  remember,  was  always  given  a  spe- 
cial request.)  My  text  is  the  simple  and  profound 
one  of  blackberries.  In  this  text  I  dare  say  you  will 
find  much  food  for  thought  (at  least  if  you  swallow 
as  many  of  them  as  Robert  Clayton  has  since  he  en- 
tered this  patch).  You  will  find  it  recorded  in  a 
number  of  places — on  his  face,  his  white  shirt  front, 
on  the  tips  of  our  fingers,  but  not  so  many  within 
the  pail." 

"Don't  hit  the  members  of  your  congregation  so 
hard.  A  minister  shouldn't  be  personal.  He  must 
be  careful  how  he  makes  his  texts  apply  or  he's 
likely  to  wound  somebody's  feelings  and  lose  his 
salary  in  consequence,"  interrupted  Robert,  much 
amused,  and  pausing  to  eat  again  and  to  watch  her 
animated  face. 

"Don't  interrupt,  please.  It  isn't  pelite  to  'speak 
out  in  meetinY  as  neighbor  Badge  does.  If  the  shoe 


THE   BLACKBERRY  PATCH  15 

fits,  put  it  on,  says  I,  and  don't  look  around  and 
nudge  your  friend  and  say  it  applies  to  him.  Please 
keep  on  with  your  work.  If  I  must  preach,  my  con- 
gregation must  work  to  support  me,  for  'the  laborer 
is  worthy  of  his  hire/  Now,  where  was  I?" 

"In  the  blackberry  patch." 

"True  enough.  As  I  was  sayin',  brethren  and 
friends  (there  seem  to  be  no  sisters  present) ,  though 
my  text  is  short  it  contains  much  food  for  thought ; 
and  this  morning,  in  the  few  brief  words  I  have  to 
say  to  you,  I  would  liken  life  in  this  world  to  a  black- 
berry patch. 

"Firstly,  your  blessings,  like  blackberries,  are 
pretty  much  mixed  up  with  thorns,  and  if  you  get 
'em  youVe  got  to  stand  a  good  many  scratches. 
You  can't  just  mosey  around  the  edge  and  make 
much  headway.  You've  got  to  push  right  through 
the  thickest  of  the  briers  if  you  will  be  successful. 

"Secondly,  the  berries,  when  you  do  get  'em,  are 
not  always  what  you  expected  'em  to  be.  The  biggest 
and  most  promising  looking  black  beauty  is  likely 
to  be  sour,  while  the  little  ones  may  be  dried  up 
and  full  of  seeds  which  get  fastened  between  your 
teeth  in  an  unpleasant  fashion,  just  as  some  little 
fol-de-rols  may  capture  our  fancy  but  turn  out  to 
be  a  nuisance." 

"Good,  good,  go  on " 

"Thirdly,  hidden  among  the  leaves  and  vines  may 
lie  the  snake,  which  like  some  treacherous  enemy  is 
seeking  to  destroy,  and  running  over  your  foot 
startles  you  out  of  a  year's  growth " 


16  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

"And  causes  you  to  spill  a  bucket  of  blackberries," 
put  in  Robert,  his  eyes  twinkling  with  merriment 
as  he  remembered  Lu's  experience  of  a  day  or  two 
before  when  the  contents  of  a  six-quart  pail  had  been 
lost  in  her  efforts  to  get  out  of  the  way  of  a  harm- 
less garter  snake. 

"Listen.  I  shall  have  the  usher  see  that  all  dis- 
orderly persons  are  expelled  from  my  -audience.  -I 
must  have  attention.  And  do  hurry  with  the  ber- 
ries, for  mother  needs  them  right  away.  What's 
next — oh,  yes.  Fourthly.  If  one  proceeds  carefully 
through  the  blackberry  patch,  lifting  the  vines  here, 
pushing  them  aside  there,  searching  all  the  hidden 
places,  minding  neither  bruises  nor  scratches " 

"Nor  snakes,"  interjected  Robert. 

"Avoiding  all  dangers,"  continued  Lu,  undisturbed 
by  this  reflection,  "discarding  the  seedy  ones  and  the 
sour,  but  carefully  collecting  all  the  best  in  the  tin 
pail,  behold  the  reward  is  sure;  for  when  winter 
comes,  the  harvest  is  ended,  and  no  man  can  work 
in  the  vineyard,  on  the  cellar  shelves  are  rows  and 
rows  of  jars  containing  delicious  jam,  jelly,  and 
blackberry  sauce,  and  with  scratches  healed  and  the 
summer's  heat  forgotten,  the  recompense  is  sweet." 

"Bravo!  bravo!  Well  done,  little  preacher.  Your 
entire  parish  applauds  your  ministerial  efforts  and 
elects  you  with  one  voice  to  be  our  future  pastor," 
cried  Robert,  clapping  his  hands  in  undisguised  ap- 
proval. "I  could  listen  to  such  a  sermon  all  day.  I'll 
venture  you  could  keep  even  Deacon  Rugby  awake. 
Give  us  a  fifthly." 


THE   BLACKBERRY  PATCH  17 

"I'm  not  so  sure  there  was  one.  If  there  was, 
you  disturbed  the  train  of  thought  so  it  flew  away," 
said  Lu,  readjusting  the  old  hat  and  pulling  the  cot- 
ton glove  into  place.  "Therefore,  my  sermon  is  ended, 
likewise  my  ministerial  career,  for  though  you  ap- 
plaud and  elect,  I  must  have  more  substantial  sup- 
port; therefore  do  I  turn  my  hand  and  brain  to  the 
more  common  pursuits  of  life,  leaving  my  doting 
parish  to  find  another  pastor  to  lead  the  flock.  See, 
by  your  loud  clapping  you  have  frightened  the  choir 
away." 

Robert  looked  meditatively  at  the  robin,  which  had 
flown  to  a  tall  elm  tree  at  the  edge  of  the  garden. 
"Our  choir  is  not  unlike  the  most  of  them,"  he 
averred ;  "it  is  easily  put  out  about  little  things,  and 
ready  to  fly  off  at  a  moment's  notice." 

"Not  a  bit  more  uncertain  than  a  parish,"  declared 
Lu,  "of  which  I  shall  have  evidence  shortly.  Here, 
hand  me  the  pail.  Mother  never  will  have  enough 
berries  for  that  pie  if  it  depends  upon  you.  That 
would  be  a  calamity  in  her  eyes — not  in  mine.  Ser- 
mons are  what  you  need,  not  pies." 

"  'A  little  of  both,  please,  and  much  obliged/  as  the 
Ruggles  youngster  said  in  Christmas  Carol/'  replied 
Robert.  "I'm  not  at  all  particular — where's  Janey?" 

"Ah!  Right  again.  What?  Janey  was  it  you 
mentioned? — why,  let  me  see — Janey  talked  about 
going  to  Sarah  McEllman's  to  get  a  crochet  pattern, 
or  down  to  the  store  for  some  sugar;  possibly  she 
may  have  run  across  to  Benders'  to  get  a  spool  of 

thread " 

VS— 2 


18  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

"Come,  come,"  said  Robert,  hastily,  "will  she  be 
back  again  soon  from  whatever  errand  she  may  be 
on?  I  want  to  see  her  a  minute." 

"Weary  knight!  How  should  I  have  guessed  it? 
Pray,  how  am  I  to  know  how  long  she  will  be  gone? 
Run  to  the  house  and  ask  mother.  Tell  her,  also, 
that  I'll  be  in  with  the  berries  directly.  Being  thus 
basely  deserted  by  an  entire  parish  I  shall  with  be- 
coming forgiveness  return  good  for  evil  by  helping 
to  prepare  pie  in  honor  of  its  birthday." 

As  Robert  went  laughing  down  the  pathway  to- 
ward the  house,  the  girl  pushed  the  battered  hat 
back  from  her  forehead,  maliciously  shook  a  roguish 
fist  at  the  young  man's  broad  shoulders,  and  tri- 
umphantly asserted  to  herself : 

''You'll  get  left  this  time,  Mr.  Robert,  for  you  won't 
find  either  of  them.  Mother  went  after  the  sugar 
herself,  and  Janey's  likely  to  be  over  at  Sarah's  all 
morning  for  aught  I  know.  Serves  you  right,  for  the 
folks  who  live  in  the  little  brown  cottage  don't  in- 
tend to  let  you  steal  away  the  affections  of  the  dear- 
est big  sister  in  the  world.  If  you  try  it  there'll  be 
trouble,  so  there!  I'll  be  glad  when  you're  safely 
out  of  the  way  at  college." 

Having  vouchsafed  this  information  to  none  but 
the  robin,  who  had  ventured  as  far  back  as  the 
cherry  tree,  Lu  fell  to  work  with  her  usual  dexterity, 
while  Robert,  all  unconscious  of  threats  so  dire,  or 
imall  brown  fists  so  formidable,  paused  on  the  back 
porch.  The  house  was  silent  to  his  repeated  knocks 


THE   BLACKBERRY   PATCH  19 

and  calls.  "That  Lu's  a  rogue,"  he  declared,  "and 
there's  no  use  trying  to  get  anything  out  of  her." 

He  walked  around  the  house,  stood  for  a  moment 
irresolutely  on  the  front  doorstep,  and  then  walked 
slowly  down  the  walk  to  the  front  gate  and  along 
the  street. 

But  for  once  Lu  had  miscalculated.  When  Janey 
had  reached  the  McEllman  home  she  learned  that 
Sarah  had  gone  out  of  town  to  spend  the  day  with  a 
friend.  Mrs.  McEllman  was  busy  in  the  kitchen, 
canning  fruit  and  making  jelly,  so  Janey  lingered 
but  a  few  moments.  Robert  was  not  half  a  block 
away  from  the  brown  cottage  when  she  came  down 
the  other  street  and  around  the  corner  to  the  side 
gate,  a  slim  figure,  simply  dressed,  the  brown  hair 
tastefully  arranged  beneath  a  small  cap,  from  which 
a  few  curls  peeped  out  coquettishly.  And  the  young 
man,  glancing  once  again  over  his  shoulder  as  he 
reached  the  corner,  caught  sight  of  her  and  immedi- 
ately turned  back. 


20  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

CHAPTER  2 
THE  GLEN 

THE  Little  Brown  Cottage  hid  itself  from  the 
warm  July  sunshine  amid  a  luxury  of  vines 
and  foliage.  The  breeze  drifted  in  among 
the  leaves  and  played  softly  around  the  old-fash- 
ioned windows.  Impatient  young  birdlings  twittered 
at  each  other  in  their  nests.  Around  the  honey- 
suckle the  rhythmic  movement  of  the  humming 
bird's  vibrating  wing  sounded  its  music,  the  bee 
sought  nectar  from  the  fragrant  white  clover,  while 
her  cousin,  the  bumblebee,  extracted  sweets  from 
the  redtop  that  grew  by  the  roadside. 

Janey  Warren  paused  at  the  gate  to  look  at  this 
scene,  as  she  had  done  a  hundred  times  since  her 
return  home  in  May.  After  the  long  winter  spent 
away  from  home  amid  strange  scenes,  on  wide,  wind- 
blown prairies,  where  she  had  so  strenuously  sought 
to  fulfill  the  duties  of  a  country  school-teacher  in 
the  cabin  schoolhouse,  this  little  home  scene  liad 
seemed  a  haven  of  quiet  rest  and  peace;  to  her  the 
most  radiantly  beautiful  picture  in  all  the  world. 
And  doubly  dear  to  her  now  were  the  widowed 
mother,  the  helpful  brother,  Ned,  the  bright  and  ca- 
pable Lu,  and  the  dear  little  sister,  Madeline.  Yes, 
doubly,  since  the  gospel  bond  united  and  bound  them 
more  closely  by  its  golden  cords  of  divine  love  and 


THE   GLEN  21 

relationship,  which  far  outlive  the  ties  of  flesh,  of 
earth,  and  time. 

Gratefully  she  thought  again  of  the  kind  Provi- 
dence that  had  given  her  work  during  the  coming 
year  in  the  home  schools,  where  whatever  troubles 
or  annoyances  might  arise,  she  could  have  the  sup- 
port of  the  wise,  kind  mother,  and  the  sympathetic 
counsel  of  the  little  family. 

"Dear  little  home,  I  hope  I  shall  never  have  to 
leave  you  again,"  she  murmured.  "No  place  will  ever 
be  fairer  to  me ;  no  hearts  truer  or  dearer  than  those 
that  beat  within  its  walls.  I'm  glad  I  could  work 
and  help  free  it,  and  that  I  didn't  fail.  I'm  glad  of 
what  the  lady  told  me  on  the  train  when  I  went  away 
last  year.  She  said  then  I  was  going  away  to  'love 
and  to  lift,'  and  that  when  the  year  was  over  I'd  be 
glad  that  I  had  'lifted,'  and  that  I  had  'loved'  well 
enough  to  keep  on  lifting.  Oh,  I  truly  am,  and  may 
God  help  me  always  to  be  brave  and  true,  for  their 
sakes." 

"Lost  in  solemn  meditation,  Miss  Janey,  or  just 
building  air  castles?"  was  Robert's  query  as  he  ap- 
proached the  figure  standing  by  the  gate  so  quietly 
as  to  be  almost  statuesque. 

Janey  started  perceptibly,  for  she  had  not  seen  him 
nor  heard  his  footsteps  on  the  smooth,  grass-grown 
side  street. 

"Neither,"  she  smiled  in  response.  "I  have  little 
time  for  real  meditation,  and  air  castles  I  have 
small  need  to  build,  since  I  want  nothing  better  than 
the  little  brown  cottage." 


22  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

A  bit  glistening  were  the  soft  brown  eyes,  and  Rob- 
ert turned  to  the  scene.  "A  pretty  enough  picture, 
I  admit/'  he  assented,  "and  quite  to  my  liking. 
There's  a  charm  there  that  many  a  more  preten- 
tious home  lacks — homey,  comfortable,  inviting,  and 
restful  to  look  at." 

"Of  course  it  can't  mean  to  others  what  it  means 
to  me,"  said  Janey,  "but  I  wouldn't  exchange  it 
for  a  prince's  palace." 

"No  more  would  I,"  said  Robert  heartily,  "at  least 
not  till  the  prince  was  willing ;  but  suppose  you  leave 
it  now  for  a  walk  down  to  the  east  meadow.  It's 
shady  most  of  the  way,  and  there  are  some  dandy 
ferns  by  the  spring.  I've  been  promising  mother  a 
long  time  to  get  some  of  them  for  her  fern  corner." 

"I  fear  mamma  and  Lu  need  me,"  said  Janey,  hesi- 
tating. "I  really  feel  as  though  I  ought  not  to  go 
when  there's  so  much  to  do.  I  shouldn't  have  taken 
the  time  to  go  over  to  Sarah's  for  a  crochet  pat- 
tern, if  she  weren't  going  away  for  a  month's  vaca- 
tion soon." 

"Your  mother  isn't  here  and  Lu  has  the  berries 
'most  picked.  I  took  your  place  and  have  been  help- 
ing her,"  replied  Robert.  "I  put  at  least  one  hand- 
ful in  the  bucket  to  each  three  handfuls  I  ate,  and 
she'll  soon  have  enough." 

"You  must  have  been  a  wonderful  help,"  laughed 
Janey.  "I'm  more  convinced  than  ever  that  she 
needs  me." 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  This  is  my  birthday  and  I  need 
you  to  help  me  get  the  ferns.  A  fellow's  birthday 


THE   GLEN  23 

comes  but  once  a  year,  and  I'll  never  be  nineteen 
again,  so  you  ought  to  be  especially  thoughtful  of  me 
to-day,"  coaxed  the  young  man.  "Besides,  I've  a  lot 
of  things  I  want  to  talk  over  with  you  about  college 
work.  I'll  go  in  and  get  your  sunshade  if  you  say 
so." 

"No,  never  mind.  I'll  go  if  you  promise  not  to 
keep  me  too  long." 

Lu,  coming  into  the  back  kitchen  porch  at  that 
minute,  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  two  young  people 
strolling  away  as  leisurely  as  though  life  were  but 
a  season  of  leisure  and  playtime,  devoid  of  care  or 
responsibility,  and  once  again  a  small  brown  fist 
was  energetically  shaken  behind  the  young  man's 
retreating  shoulders. 

Lu  swept  and  scrubbed  the  kitchen  floor  that 
morning  with  a  silent  energy  that  it  seemed  to  be 
necessary  to  work  off.  Half  an  hour  later,  when  her 
mother  had  come  back  from  town  and  was  at  work 
in  the  pantry,  making  pie  crust,  the  girl  dropped 
suddenly  on  a  kitchen  chair  near  the  doorway  and 
burst  out  impulsively: 

"I  just  never  could  stand  it  if  Janey  should  get 
married !" 

(Mrs.  Warren  gave  such  a  start  at  the  suddenness 
of  Lu's  exclamation  that  the  case  knife  with  which 
she  was  mixing  the  flour  and  lard  gave  a  sidewise 
lurch  against  the  pan,  then  went  out  of  her  hand  and 
over  into  the  almost  empty  flour  bin  with  a  clatter, 
while  the  pan  containing  the  mixture  barely  escaped 
being  tipped  over  onto  the  floor. 


24  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

"Janey  get  married!"  she  ejaculated.  "Lu,  what 
do  you  mean?" 

"Why,  mother,"  Lu  laughed  a  trifle  hysterically, 
"I  didn't  mean  to  make  you  jump  so,  but  can't  you 
see  that  Robert  finds  some  excuse  to  drop  in  pretty 
often?  It's  not  always  to  see  Ned,  if  he  does  ask 
for  him— it's  Janey.  And  besides,  I'm  positive  that 
young  fellow  up  in  Dakota,  Billy  somebody,  writes 
to  her,  for  I  brought  home  a  letter  from  the  post 
office  the  other  day  I'm  sure  was  from  him.  I 
teased  her,  but  she  wouldn't  tell  me  who  it  was 
from.'' 

Mrs.  Warren  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief.  "Is  that 
all  ?"  she  exclaimed.  "How  you  startled  me,  Lu,  and 
what  put  such  a  crazy  notion  in  your  head !  Janey's 
but  a  child  yet,  with  her  work  to  think  about  and 
— us,  and  Robert  is  only  a  big,  ambitious  boy 
with  his  heart  in  college  plans.  As  for  the  young 
man  in  Dakota,  he's  one  of  the  farmer  boys  of  the 
neighborhood,  that  Janey's  been  interested  in  help- 
ing." 

Lu  was  silent  a  moment,  but  with  an  unconvinced 
expression;  then,  in  the  most  innocent  voice  imag- 
inable, but  with  a  mischievous  twinkle  in  her  eyes, 
inquired  demurely: 

"Mother,  how  old  were  you  and  daddy  when  you 
got  married?" 

Mrs.  Warren,  having  recovered  her  knife  from 
the  bottom  of  the  flour  bin  by  this  time,  paused 
again  in  her  operations,  brushed  the  flour  from  her 
hands,  looked  more  thoughtful,  then  caught  a 


THE   GLEN  25 

glimpse  of  the  twinkle  in  Lu's  eyes,  and  half  smiled 
at  her  pertinent  inquiry.  "Why,  sure,  I  was  barely 
eighteen — it  doesn't  seem  possible  I  wasn't  any  older 
than  Janey  is  now — and  your  father  but  twenty, 
but — but — young  folks  then  were  older  for  their 
years  than  they  are  in  these  days.  I  shouldn't  worry 
yet  awhile,  Lu.  We  need  Janey's  help  for  a  long 
time  yet,  and  as  for  Robert,  if  he  should  fancy  her, 
it  will  take  him  four  or  five  years  to  get  through 
college,  maybe  longer,  since  he  has  to  work  his  way, 
and  in  the  meantime  he'll  meet  with  dozens  of  other 
girls.  So  don't  get  romantic  or  worried  over  noth- 
ing." 

"Well,"  said  Lu,  with  a  relieved  sigh,  "I'm  glad 
you  feel  that  way  about  it.  I  suppose  it  is  silly  of 
me.  I  guess  I'd  better  go  work  that  butter  over  and 
mold  it,  hadn't  I?"  And  without  more  ado  she  was 
off  to  the  cool  cellar,  snatches  of  a  gay  song  drift- 
ing back  to  the  low  kitchen. 

Nevertheless,  when  the  mother  was  left  alone  in 
the  quiet  of  the  pantry,  her  thoughts  were  of  a  less 
sanguine  nature  than  her  words  had  been,  and  an- 
other worry  wrinkle  creased  her  brow.  "There, 
there!"  she  murmured  at  length,  to  herself.  "It 
simply  must  not  be  for  years  yet.  I  couldn't  bear  it." 

Such  thoughts,  of  so  disturbing  a  nature  to  the 
mother  and  sister,  were  the  farthest  from  Janey's 
and  Robert's  minds  that  morning  as  they  walked 
along  the  roadside  in  the  shade  of  the  great  elms 
toward  the  meadow,  one  corner  of  which  dipped  into 
a  deep  ravine,  woodsy  and  cool,  its  sides  formed  of 


26  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

great  ledges  of  rock,  overgrown  here  and  there 
with  the  soft,  green  moss,  where  the  water  filtered 
through  the  crevices.  At  the  very  bottom  and  un- 
derneath a  wide  shelving  rock  was  a  miniature,  cave- 
like  opening,  and  here  the  water  bubbled  through 
in  a  cold,  clear  stream.  This  little  retreat,  one  of 
Nature's  choice  bits  of  handiwork,  was  a  favorite 
resort  of  the  people  of  Banforth  for  picnics  and 
short  outings,  when  the  time  for  pleasure  and  re- 
laxation was  not  long  enough  to  warrant  a  trip  to 
the  lake  and  river,  several  miles  distant. 

"It's  just  this  way,"  Robert  was  saying,  as  he 
stopped  to  push  aside  a  drooping  branch  that  ob- 
structed their  way,  "I've  been  handicapped  all  the 
way  along  because  of  father's  being  away  so  much. 
Not  that  I'm  sorry  for  it,  because  we  all  wanted  to 
do  our  part  and  not  hinder  papa  in  any  way;  but 
you  know  how  a  fellow  feels  when  he's  ambitious  and 
really  wants  to  get  a  good  education.  I  never  shall 
forget  how  I  inwardly  groaned  and  lamented,  and 
— well,  simply  rebelled  in  my  heart  over  the  way 
things  went  the  year  I  was  fourteen  and  I  learned 
I'd  either  have  to  stop  school  or  papa  would  have 
to  stay  at  home.  That  was  the  year  mother's  heart 
was  so  bad  and  one  of  us  simply  had  to  stay  at  home. 
Of  course  I  wasn't  obliged  to  do  it — they  left  the 
matter  for  me  to  decide,  but  I  felt  like  it  was  about 
the  same  thing,  and  I  said  papa  might  go,  but  I'm 
afraid  that  a  good  many  times  my  thoughts  wouldn't 
have  looked  good  if  written  out.  I'm  not  at  all  in- 
clined to  think  that,  though  I  made  the  sacrifice, 


THE   GLEN  27 

the  pages  of  that  year's  record  were  by  any  means 
clean  and  white,  and  I'm  not  particularly  hopeful 
of  any  reward.  However/'  he  added  with  a  laugh, 
"the  training  I  got  then  in  washing  dishes  and  do- 
ing odds  and  ends  of  kitchen  work  a  boy  so  much 
despises,  ought  to  stand  by  me  in  good  stead  now, 
for  I  got  a  letter  this  morning  in  answer  to  my  in- 
quiry for  work  at  Clifton  City,  that  there  was  a 
place  open  in  one  of  the  restaurants,  where  I  might 
do  dishwashing  for  my  meals.  That  seemed  to  be 
the  only  thing  left  for  them  to  promise  me,  and  I 
suppose  it's  as  good  as  anything,  and  I  don't  mind 
it  now  as  I  did  when  I  was  fourteen." 

"I'm  so  glad  you  found  something,"  said  Janey, 
brightly.  "I  was  beginning  to  fear  you  were  going 
to  lose  out.  Have  you  told  them  you'd  take  it?" 

"Wrote  them  a  reply  ten  minutes  after  I  got  the 
letter  and  sent  it  off  on  the  next  mail.  Tell  you  what, 
no  college  for  me  unless  I  find  some  way  to  earn  my 
keep.  My  resources  are  decidedly  limited.  I've  a 
few  pigs  to  sell  late  in  the  fall  and  two  or  three  year- 
lings. I  hope  to  find  enough  work  Saturdays  to  pay 
niy  room  rent,  then  there'll  be  tuition,  books,  and 
general  expenses  that  must  be  met  some  way.  May 
have  to  borrow  before  the  end  of  the  year,  if  I  can 
find  anybody  foolish  enough  to  risk  making  me  a 
loan," 

"You're  lucky  to  have  even  a  chance  to  work  your 
way  through  college,"  said  the  girl,  wistfully.  "I'd 
like  nothing  better,  and  if  it  wasn't  for  helping  keep 
up  the  home,  doing  what  I  can  for  mother,  and  keep- 


28  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

ing  Ned,  Lu,  and  Madeline  in  school,  I'd  certainly 
try.  I've  learned  one  thing  since  I  began  to  teach, 
and  that  is,  one  can't  get  too  much  preparation  for 
the  work.  I  didn't  know  how  poorly  qualified  I  was 
till  I  began.  Do  you  know,  I  positively  ache  for  the 
opportunities  some  of  the  girls  here  in  town  have 
for  school  and  college?  I  know  I  could  make  better 
use  of  them  than  some  of  them  do,  if  I  had  the 
chance." 

"I  know  you  could  and  would,"  Robert  assented, 
heartily,  "but  their  hearts  are  not  in  it  as  ours  are. 
There  lies  the  difference.  I've  simply  been  amazed 
at  some  of  the  young  folks  whose  fathers  are  will- 
ing and  able  to  give  them  every  advantage  along 
that  line  and  they  simply  refuse  it.  Well,  I  may  be 
a  long  time  getting  there,  but  I  hope  to  make  it 
through  some  day.  Don't  suppose  I  can  go  longer 
than  one  or  two  years  at  a  time,  then  I'll  have  to 
stop  awhile  and  catch  up  on  expenses.  It'll  take  me 
till  I'm  twenty-five  or  twenty-six  to  get  through, 
probably,  but  it's  worth  working  for,  even  if  I  am  a 
long  time  accomplishing  it,  and  the  work  and  experi- 
ence between  times  won't  do  me  any  hurt;  but  I 
sure  am  getting  anxious  for  September  to  come  and 
to  get  away  and  at  it." 

Janey  gave  him  a  look,  half  serious,  half  humor- 
ous, then  said  slowly,  "It  might  be  well  for  you  to 
get  your  education  as  soon  as  possible,  Robert.  You 
know  I  haven't  been  in  this  church  but  a  few  months, 
but  I've  noticed  already,  and  one  thing  I've  learned 


THE   GLEN  29 

is  that  sometimes  the  young  men  are  called  pretty 
early  to  take  responsible  positions  and " 

Robert  threw  up  one  hand  as  if  to  ward  off  further 
speech.  "Don't,  Janey,  please  don't — I  can't  think 
of  it  now.  It  would  spoil  all  my  plans,  and  I'd  rather 
do  my  work  in  some  other  way  than  that.  Our 
church  needs  men  in  all  lines,  and  I  hope  I  may  be 
allowed  to  do  the  work  of  my  own  choosing.  I  be- 
lieve I'm  willing  to  do  my  share,  and — after  I  get  my 
education  I  might  be  willing  to  accept  that  if  I  knew 
He  wanted  me,  I  can't  say;  but  I'd  rather  teach  or 
enter  some  profession  like  that.  Anyhow,  I've  been 
through  experiences  that  make  me  feel  like  I  never 
wanted  to  be  a  missionary  if  I  could  help  it." 

"You  take  things  altogether  too  seriously,  Robert," 
Janey  said,  smiling.  "I  was  only  mentioning  the 
possibilities,  and  thought  maybe  you'd  better  hurry 
a  little." 

"I  suppose  I  do,"  replied  the  young  man,  still  so- 
berly. "Perhaps  it's  because  the  suggestion  of  such 
a  thing  has  been  popping  up  in  my  mind  ever  since 
I  can  remember,  and  I  never  could  quite  get  rid  of 
it,  that  makes  it  so  serious  a  matter  with  me.  Though 
where  the  thought  ever  came  from  I  don't  know,  un- 
less it's  because  father's  a  minister  and  people  often 
expect  it  of  the  son.  But  whenever  it  has  come  I've 
always  felt  like  shrinking  from  it — and — well,  some- 
times— but  let's  not  talk  about  it — there  are  other 
things  I  want  to  do,  and  this  is  an  annoying 
thought." 

"I'm  sorry  I  mentioned  it";  Janey  spoke  gravely 


30  A   VINEYARD   STORY 

enough  now.  "I  was  only  in  jest,  and  it  isn't  a  mat- 
ter one  should  jest  about.  But  don't  you  think  you 
had  better  be  a  little  more  careful  how  you  go  at  that 
fern?  If  Lu  were  here  she'd  be  likely  to  tell  you  it 
isn't  a  tree  or  a  fence  post  to  be  dealt  with.  Sup- 
pose we  let  that  one  go  and  take  this  one  down  here. 
I  believe  it's  a  much  thriftier  plant  and  it  would  be 
better  if  we  can  get  it  out  with  more  dirt  remaining 
about  the  roots,"  she  added,  with  persuasive  gentle- 
ness. 

Robert  looked  ruefully  at  the  much-bedraggled 
plant  which  he  had  half  torn  from  the  soft  earth,  and 
obeyed  her  suggestion. 

"Didn't  I  tell  you  I  needed  your  help  this  morning 
to  dig  these  ferns?"  he  queried  as  he  thrust  his  light 
spade  into  the  moist  earth  at  a  safe  distance  from 
the  fern  she  indicated.  "Now  you  see  I  wasn't  so 
much  at  fault  in  insisting  on  your  coming  as  you 
thought  I  was.  Lu  is  perfectly  capable  of  looking 
after  any  manner  of  housework,  and  I  have  her  word 
for  it  that  your  mother  knows  how  to  make  the  pies, 
while  you  are  an  eyewitness  to  the  bungle  I'm  mak- 
ing of  this  job." 

"I'm  fully  convinced,"  laughed  Janey;  "but 
really,  I  greatly  fear  for  your  college  instructors 
and  the  restaurant  dishes  if  you  plunge  after  things 
in  this  fashion."  And  the  girl  carefully  lifted  the 
loosened  fern,  and  pressing  the  soil  about  its  roots, 
wrapped  it  in  a  piece  of  paper.  "Now  for  the  next. 
Let's  take  this  one." 

The  conversation  soon  drifted  back  to  the  only 


THE   GLEN  31 

topic  that  held  their  absorbed  attention,  school  and 
college,  while  they  dug  the  remaining  ferns  they 
wanted,  loitered  at  the  spring  to  wash  the  soil  from 
their  hands  in  its  cool  waters,  and  get  a  refreshing 
drink  where  it  bubbled  out  from  the  ledge  of  rocks. 
An  hour  or  more  later  the  two  came  strolling  back 
up  the  hill,  homeward. 


32  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

CHAPTER  3 
A  STRONG  CORD 

THE  SHADOWS  of  an  early  September  twilight 
were  falling  in  brooding  quiet  over  the  broad 
fields  of  a  certain  Dakota  homestead.  Even 
in  the  dim,  slow-fading  light  it  was  easily  discern- 
ible that  the  place  was  prosperous,  for  though  the 
barns,  granaries,  and  various  outbuildings  were 
somewhat  rudely  constructed,  they  were,  notwith- 
standing, substantial,  numerous,  and  filled  to  over- 
flowing. Near  by  were  great  stacks  of  straw  that 
had  been  threshed  of  the  golden  grain  in  late  sum- 
mer, which  also  bore  evidence  of  the  rich  and  abun- 
dant crops  that  had  been  the  reward  of  those  worthy 
tillers  of  the  soil.  The  house  itself  was  small,  for 
the  pioneer  farmer  of  any  locality  usually  waits  till 
other  needs  are  supplied  before  he  undertakes  to 
provide  himself  and  family  with  the  comforts  of  a 
modern  dwelling  place. 

To  the  northwest,  up  the  sweeping  slope,  and  at 
the  head  of  a  wide  slough,  nestled  the  small  cabin 
schoolhouse  where  only  the  winter  before  Janey 
Warren  had  spent  so  many  heartsick,  homesick  days 
while  she  had  faithfully  stuck  to  her  post  of  duty  for 
the  sake  of  those  she  loved,  so  far  away  in  the  brown 
cottage  among  the  hills.  The  children  who  crossed 
the  threshold  of  the  little  schoolhouse  on  these  sul- 
try September  days  had  not  forgotten  the  little, 


"  'It's  all  right,  son/  the  older  man  spoke  finally,  laying 
his  coarse,  toil-hardened  hand  on  the  strong,  young  shoulder. 
'It's  all  right. ...  I  reckon  you  can  do  as  you're  a  mind  to.'  " 
(See  page  37.) 


A  STRONG  CORD  33 


brown-eyed  teacher  of  last  year,  with  her  winning 
ways  and  gentle  heart.  Another  teacher  stood  be- 
hind her  desk  now,  a  woman  of  mature  years, 
stronger  and  with  wider  experience  than  Janey  had 
had,  and  one,  too,  whom  it  is  safe  to  judge  Blake  and 
Andy  and  Asa,  the  three  boys  who  had  caused  her 
so  much  perplexity,  would  not  care  to  trifle  with; 
for  the  three,  though  having  learned  a  lesson  they 
would  never  forget,  were  still  far  from  reaching 
that  point  of  excellence  in  conduct  where  an  occa- 
sional firm  hand  was  not  needed  to  keep  them  in  the 
straight  path  of  duty.  As  they  labored  more  or  less 
diligently  over  mathematics  or  dull  history  topics, 
only  now  and  then  daring  to  take  a  surreptitious 
glance  at  each  other,  make  a  sly  effort  to  get  a  bite 
of  apple,  or  draw  a  cartoon,  there  was  sometimes  a 
little  stirring  of  the  heart  when  remembering  the 
one  who  had  been  with  them  last  year  and  the  heroic 
fight  she  had  made  to  save  them  from  the  blizzard. 
The  heart  of  a  boy  loves  the  heroic  wherever  he  finds 
it,  and  they  could  never  entirely  forget  the  quiet,  un- 
daunted firmness  of  that  slender  girl  teacher  as  she 
had  fastened  them  all  together  in  a  line  with  the 
rope,  lest  they  become  lost  from  each  other  in  the 
snow,  had  started  out  with  them  in  the  face  of  death, 
and  like  the  faithful  little  captain  she  was,  had  strug- 
gled along  at  the  head  of  the  line  until  they  reached 
warmth  and  shelter  and  safety  from  the  cruel  ele- 
ments. 

The  coal  house  had  been  well  filled  this  fall,  even 
VS— 3 


34  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

before  the  school  term  began.  The  schoolhouse  had 
been  repaired.  New  strips  of  weatherboarding  cov- 
ered the  places  where  great  gaps  had  been  before. 
The  plastering  had  been  patched  up,  the  black  walls 
had  been  repainted  with  fresh,  clean-looking  paint, 
the  broken  windowpanes  had  been  replaced  with 
new  ones.  The  people  of  that  district  needed  no 
more  hard  lessons.  They  had  learned  some  things 
as  well  as  the  pupils — things  they  would  long  remem- 
ber. During  those  first  days  of  school  the  thoughts 
of  the  children  were  often  of  Janey.  There  may  have 
been  others  who  thought  of  her  more  frequently 
than  would  have  been  guessed. 

At  the  homestead  mentioned,  in  the  long,  low  shed 
that  ran  from  one  side  of  the  barn  to  the  straw  stack 
of  gigantic  proportions,  Mr.  Gibson  and  his  young 
son,  Nelson,  were  milking  the  cows.  One  could  dis- 
tinctly hear  the  cheery  rattle  of  the  milk  as  it  struck 
the  bottom  of  the  tin  pails,  splashed  against  the 
sides,  soon  subsiding  into  a  more  subdued  sound  as 
the  vessels  filled  up  with  the  wholesome  liquid.  Over 
in  the  haymow  of  the  big  barn,  Billy  Gibson,  the 
older  son,  a  straight,  stalwart  young  man,  with 
strong,  muscular  arms,  was  tossing  huge  forkfuls 
of  hay  down  to  the  mangers  below.  The  last  glow 
of  retiring  day  fell  through  the  high  loft  window  on 
his  finely  built,  manly  figure,  but  was  not  clear 
enough  to  disclose  the  firm,  determined  chin,  nor  the 
look  of  resolve  that  now  played  about  the  features 
of  the  young  farmer. 

"There,  I  guess  that's  enough  for  the  brutes  to- 


A   STRONG  CORD  35 

night,"  he  said  half  aloud,  after  an  abundant  feed 
had  been  tossed  down,  "and  since  I've  come  to  a  de- 
cision I  may  as  well  tell  dad  and  have  it  over  with." 

He  gave  the  pitchfork  a  careless  toss  into  the  hay 
at  one  side,  descended  the  steep  ladder  to  the  ground, 
and  going  outside,  walked  over  to  the  granary  for  a 
bucket  of  oats  for  the  work  horses.  As  he  returned, 
his  father  and  Nelson  came  out  of  the  shed  with  four 
brimming  pails  of  milk. 

"Here,  Nelse,"  his  father  said,  shortly,  "you 
fasten  the  doors  to  the  shed  and  barn  so  the  critters 
can't  get  out,  while  Billy  and  I  carry  these  pails 
to  the  kitchen.  I'll  be  back  with  the  lantern  directly 
and  we'll  look  after  the  pigs." 

"Our  pigs  have  done  a  right  sight  well  this  sum- 
mer and  fall,"  remarked  the  farmer  as  the  two  car- 
ried the  heavy  pails  up  the  path  toward  the  house, 
"an'  price  o'  pork  been  risin'  all  fall.  I  'low  we'll 
have  a  good  bit  o'  money  for  'em  in  November,  an* 
my,  how  them  young  beeves  are  puttin'  on  the  fat! 
Seems  to  me  there  ain't  another  place  in  the  world 
nowheres  that  can  hold  a  candle  to  Dakota  for  wheat 
an'  for  a  farmer  makin'  money." 

"It's  sure  been  a  great  year,  dad,"  responded  the 
young  man  rather  briefly,  as  entering  the  door  of  the 
kitchen  the  two  set  the  buckets  of  foaming  milk  upon 
the  table,  where  Sally,  the  daughter  and  sister,  stood 
ready  to  strain  it  into  the  heavy  crocks  and  set  it 
away  to  cool. 

While  the  old  man  stopped  to  get  the  lantern,  the 


36  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

younger  one  waited  outside,  and  when  his  father 
came  out  the  door  he  broke  out  abruptly : 

"Yes,  dad,  it's  been  a  splendid  year — and  weVe 
raised  the  finest  crop  and  got  the  best  stock  and  farm 
there  is  in  Dakota.  The  land  will  be  worth  good 
money  to  us  any  time  now ;  but,  dad,  I'm  tired  of  the 
farm  and  of  Dakota.  I  want  to  know — it's  been  on 
my  mind  for  some  time — to  leave  the  farm  this  fall 
after  the  crops  were  all  harvested,  and  take  a  course 
at  a  business  college,  or  preparatory  work  of  some 
sort.  Things  are  in  good  shape  here  now,  and  my 
share  of  this  year's  crop  will  pay  my  expenses  sev- 
eral times  over." 

The  older  man  stood  silent  for  a  few  moments, 
regarding  his  son  in  the  soft  twilight  with  a  keen, 
searching  look.  When  at  last  he  spoke  it  was  with 
the  appearance  of  a  man  who  had  already  known  and 
passed  judgment  on  the  matter  long  before. 

"I've  been  a-lookin'  for  something  like  this,  Billy, 
for  some  little  time,"  he  remarked,  stroking  his 
short,  stubby  beard  with  his  free  hand.  "I  told  ma 
not  long  ago  you  was  a-gettin'  restless  and  I  know'd 
you  was  goin'  to  take  a  turn  some  way.  So  it's  col- 
lege, is  it?  Wall,  you  never  know,  as  I  says  to  ma, 
what  strange  notions  these  young  folks  air  goin'  to 
take  in  these  days.  When  I  brought  the  family  up 
here  and  settled  you  on  these  prairies,  I  'lowed  you 
was  always  goin'  to  be  satisfied,  an'  up  to  this  year 
you  seemed  to  want  nothin'  better  than  to  raise 
wheat  and  'taters  and  look  after  the  stock." 

"And  so  I  did,  father,  but — I've  changed  my  mind. 


A  STRONG  CORD  37 

I've  nothing  against  the  farm,  you  know ;  it's  worked 
out  all  right,  and  that  land  of  mine  over  yonder  will 
give  me  a  splendid  start  in  any  business  I  choose  to 
start  into,  and — well,  the  fact  is,  I  want  a  better  edu- 
cation before  I  settle  down  on  it  to  stay,  or  enter  into 
business  of  any  kind.  I  don't  expect  to  leave  the 
farm  entirely,  though  I  don't  especially  like  Dakota, 
but  I've  been  thinking  and  can  see  now  where  I  neg- 
lected school  opportunities.  A  young  fellow  is  apt  to 
see  such  things  too  late,  dad,  I  reckon ;  but  I  thought 
it  wasn't  quite  too  late  for  me  to  get  some  good  out 
of  school,  and  there'll  be  no  foolishness  about  it  nor 
time  wasted  if  I  go  now.  Somehow,  since  I  joined 
the  church,  dad,  I  see  some  things  in  a  different  light. 
I  used  to  think  it  was  nonsense  to  put  so  much  time 
on  books.  It  doesn't  look  that  way  to  me  any  more." 

A  quick  gleam  of  comprehension  flashed  into  the 
older  man's  eyes  which  the  younger  man  failed  to 
notice.  There  was  a  brief  pause.  Inside  the  low 
kitchen  Sally  was  clattering  pans  and  milk  crocks 
and  singing  in  a  clear,  strong  voice. 

"It's  all  right,  son,"  the  older  man  spoke  finally, 
laying  his  coarse,  toil-hardened  hand  on  the  strong, 
young  shoulder.  "It's  all  right.  I  reckon  it's  the 
way  o'  the  world.  A  young  feller  knows  what  he 
wants,  and  you're  of  age  and  can  do  as  you  please. 
Nelse  and  I  can  manage  things  this  winter  all  right. 
There'll  be  little  to  do  except  feed  and  water  through 
the  coldest  spells,  an'  everything's  in  good  shape  for 
that.  So  I  reckon  you  can  do  as  you're  a  mind  to. 


38  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

Where  be  you  thinkin'  of  goin,'  Billy?    S'pose  you've 
been  a-figurin'  on  some  place." 

"I've  written  to  several  schools/'  replied  Billy, 
somewhat  hesitatingly,  "and  I  don't  know  for  sure; 
but  think  I  can  get  about  what  I  want  at  Clifton 
City.  It  offers  everything,  and  tuition  and  board  are 
a  little  cheaper,  if  anything,  than  some  of  the  other 
places." 

Again  that  shrewd  understanding  flash  passed 
through  the  father's  eyes,  but  he  only  said  as  the 
young  man  turned  to  go  into  the  house,  "  'Bout  as 
good  as  any,  so  far  as  I  know.  They're  all  purty 
much  alike,  to  me,  and  I  wouldn't  know  which  from 
t'other ;  but  a  young  feller  sees  the  difference,  I  'low, 
and  will  look  out  for  the  most  likely.  Wall,  I  reckon 
Nelse'll  be  thinkin'  his  old  dad's  never  comin'  with 
the  lantern  to  see  about  them  pigs.  But  you  make 
up  your  mind  as  you  like,  son.  S'pose  ma  and  Sal- 
ly'll  feel  badly  put  out  to  have  you  go,  but  we'll 
git  along." 

As  he  disappeared  down  the  pathway  amid  the 
darkening  shadows,  Mr.  Gibson  gave  a  low  grunt  to 
himself  and  chuckled  half  aloud: 

"Mebbe  'tis  the  church  and  maybe  'tain't  it  alto- 
gether that's  calling  him  into  the  road  o'  knowledge. 
The  Lord  calls,  but  he  has  a  mighty  indirect  way  o' 
leading  folks  sometimes,  an'  if  I  was  to  make  a  guess 
on  it  this  time,  I'd  say  that  a  little  wisp  of  a  school- 
teacher had  hold  o'  the  main  string  that's  pullin' 
him  to  college.  If  I  remember  the  lay  o'  the  land 
down  in  that  country,  Clifton  ain't  more'n  fifty  or  a 


A  STRONG  CORD  39 

hundred  miles  from  that  little  village  where  she 
lives,  an'  if  I  was  a  bettin'  man,  I'd  take  the  risk  o' 
puttin'  my  best  span  o'  mules  an*  our  whole  herd 
o'  cattle  'gainst  a  turkey  gobbler  that  it's  the  nearest 
college  he  could  find  to  where  she  lives.  So  I  reckon 
'tis  the  school  that  offers  the  best  chance  for  him  to 
git  what  he  wants. 

"Wall,  I  don't  blame  him,"  the  old  man  chuckled 
again,  "for  if  I  was  young  and  in  his  shoes,  I  'low 
I'd  do  the  same  thing;  for  a  gal  like  that's  worth 
climbin'  up  a  good  many  steps  o'  the  ladder  o'  knowl- 
edge in  order  to  git,  an'  I  reckon  the  cord  she's  a- 
pullin'  him  with  is  a  heap  sight  stronger  than  that 
rope  she  used  last  winter  to  drag  the  youngsters 
home  through  the  blizzard." 


40  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

CHAPTER  4 

HERE   AND   THERE 

E^E  to  certain  ones  of  the  young  people  of 
Banforth,  in  whom  we  are  particularly  in- 
terested, was  a  busy  one  that  fall.  It  would 
be  difficult  to  determine  which  played  the  more 
strenuous  part.  In  the  little  brown  cottage  affairs 
went  on  much  as  they  had  done  in  the  years  past, 
before  Janey  had  taught  school  the  winter  in  Dakota, 
only  now  the  financial  burden  had  been  greatly 
lessened  by  reason  of  the  mortgage  being  lifted  and 
also  through  the  additional  help  which  Janey's  com- 
fortable income  brought  to  the  household.  She  began 
her  work  in  September  in  the  primary  department  of 
the  schools  with  a  courage  and  energy  that  boded 
well  for  the  success  of  her  new  undertaking,  while 
Ned,  just  advanced  to  long  trousers,  entered  upon 
his  third  year  in  high  school  with  his  usual  zeal  and 
enthusiasm.  School  life  was  lacking  for  him  in  but 
one  respect.  Robert  Clayton,  early  in  the  month, 
had  gone  to  Clifton  City,  and  Ned  sorely  missed  him 
at  every  turn.  Last  year,  in  advance  of  most  of  his 
class  in  his  studies,  he  had  also  been  the  life  of  the 
playground,  at  the  head  of  the  ball  teams,  and  the 
moving  factor  in  all  the  games  and  athletic  sports. 

"It's  just  like  having  the  main  prop  knocked  right 
out  from  under  one  to  have  Robert  gone/'  Ned  con- 
fessed to  Janey  one  evening.  "The  athletic  club's 


HERE   AND   THERE  41 

not  half  organized  and  the  ball  teams  are  doing  punk 
work.  The  boys  scrap  over  everything  and  nobody 
has  sense  enough  to  bring  order  out  of  the  mix-ups. 
I  can't  see  how  Robert  ever  did  it;  he  sure  was  a 
capital  organizer  and  leader;  but  how  he  ever  held 
things  together  last  year  and  made  them  run 
smoothly  is  more  than  I  can  tell.  It  sure  takes  a 
wise  head  and  a  diplomat  to  do  it." 

"Then  there  is  another  thing  about  Rob/'  Ned 
went  on,  carelessly  pulling  at  a  tangle  of  thread  in 
Janey's  fancywork  basket  as  he  sat  on  the  corner 
of  the  table.  "I  wonder  more  and  more  at  the  cour- 
age Robert  had  concerning  his  religion.  The  boys 
did  hurl  some  mighty  mean  thrusts  at  him  about 
that.  He  took  them  as  good-naturedly  as  though 
they  were  some  part  of  a  game,  and  I  never  saw 
him  indignant  but  a  time  or  two.  If  they  hurt  him 
he  didn't  show  it,  though  my  private  opinion  is  they 
cut  pretty  deep  sometimes.  He  and  Mamie  had  to 
stand  against  the  prejudice  alone  last  year  and  bear 
the  brunt  of  it ;  it's  good  there's  more  of  us  now,  but 
since  we  joined  the  church  last  spring  I've  learned 
it  isn't  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world  to  stand  perse- 
cution, and  I  wish  Robert  were  here  to  help  us." 

"Well,  maybe  it's  the  best  thing  for  us,  though," 
replied  his  sister,  thoughtfully.  "Of  course  these 
experiences  are  all  new  to  us,  but  if  he  were  here 
perhaps  we'd  lean  too  much  on  him,  and  the  Lord 
wants  us  to  learn  to  stand  for  ourselves.  That's  one 
of  his  great  tests." 

"I  suppose  so,"  Ned  responded;  then  added,  "But, 


42  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

Janey,  he  certainly  is  the  best  fellow  in  the  world. 
I  never  saw  anyone  who  could  beat  him." 

Janey  laughed.  "You're  a  hero  worshiper,  Ned. 
I'll  admit  he's  splendid  in  many  respects,  but  you're 
apt  to  be  extravagant  in  your  ideas  when  you  talk  of 
Robert." 

"I  tell  you  such  fellows  are  mighty  few  and  far 
between,  and  if  you  understood  boys  as  a  brother  has 
the  opportunity  to  size  them  up,  sis,  you'd  say  so, 
too — Robert  Clayton  is  a  boy  in  ten  thousand." 

"Don't  sing  Robert's  praises  to  Janey;  she  don't 
need  'em,"  exclaimed  Lu,  popping  her  head  through 
the  doorway  at  that  instant.  "If  I've  called  supper 
once  I've  called  it  at  least  five  times,  and  I  venture 
the  assertion  you  haven't  heard  me  at  all.  The  pota- 
toes are  getting  soggy,  the  steak  cold,  and  the  ami- 
able cook  is  losing  her  temper." 

"Then  do  let  us  hurry  by  all  means,"  cried  Ned, 
dropping  down  and  starting  in  haste  for  the  kitchen. 
"Soggy  potatoes  and  cold  steak  are  bad  enough,  but 
an  ill-tempered  cook,  oh,  my!" 

Far  from  looking  the  part  of  a  disgruntled  indi- 
vidual, however,  the  little  cook  busied  herself  serv- 
ing a  wholesome  and  appetizing  supper  to  the  happy 
family  circle  that  gathered  around  the  board ;  a  par- 
ticularly jolly  little  group  that  evening,  for  it  had 
been  one  of  those  days  when  the  world  had  gone  well 
with  them,  and  they  were  in  good  spirits. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  Lu's  school  studies  were 
sadly  broken  into  at  times  that  fall  by  household  du- 
ties; for  Janey's  tireless  work  in  the  schoolroom 


HERE   AND   THERE  43 

taxed  her  frail  strength  and  left  her  unable  to  do 
much  work  at  home  evenings  and  mornings,  though 
she  came  in  for  her  full  share  on  Saturdays;  but 
Lu,  possessed  of  a  much  stronger  and  more  vigor- 
ous constitution,  managed  with  Madeline's  help  to 
carry  the  greater  burden  of  the  housework  and  at 
the  same  time  keep  pace  with  the  average  students 
of  her  class,  while  the  mother  continued  to  take  in 
the  usual  amount  of  sewing  as  had  been  her  wont 
for  many  years  since  the  father's  death. 

Across  the  village,  in  the  Clayton  household,  Mrs. 
Clayton  had  that  very  day  been  disposed  to  count 
her  blessings  as  she  and  Mamie  sat  in  the  small 
living  room  by  the  grate  fire,  looking  over  winter 
clothing  and  sorting  out  that  which  would  be  avail- 
able to  make  over  and  renew. 

"The  Lord  surely  has  had  consideration  for  our 
needs/'  she  sighed  thankfully.  "I  don't  see  how  we 
could  have  gotten  along  this  year  without  Robert 
if  the  church  hadn't  arranged  for  your  father  to 
labor  near  home.  It's  such  a  blessing  to  have  him 
home  again  after  being  sent  to  distant  fields  for  so 
long.  Every  day  I  seem  to  feel  more  and  more  God's 
thought  and  care  for  his  children,  and  that  his  hand 
is  over  all  our  ways." 

"Yes,  mamma,  and  Robert  would  have  felt  it  so 
dreadfully  if  he  couldn't  have  gone  to  college  this 
year,"  declared  the  daughter  as  she  clipped  off  the 
buttons  from  a  worn-out  garment  and  dropped 
them  into  the  button  box.  "It's  hard  enough  to  get 
along  without  him,  even  with  papa  here.  We'd 


44  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

'most  die  of  lonesomeness  if  they  were  both  gone, 
and  how  would  we  ever  manage  things?" 

"I  suppose  there  would  have  been  some  way  pro- 
vided," replied  the  mother,  cheerfully ;  "there  always 
has,  but  it  is  such  a  comfort  that  he  provided  this 
way,  and  I'm  glad  Robert  didn't  have  to  meet  dis- 
appointment again.  He's  had  plenty  of  them  to 
meet  all  the  way  along  in  his  efforts  to  get  school 
opportunities.  I  only  hope,"  she  added  with  a  moth- 
er's anxious  solicitude,  "that  college  life  won't  spoil 
him  in  any  way,  and  that  he'll  be  as  faithful  and 
honorable  a  young  man  as  he  has  been  honest  and 
true  as  a  boy,  and  that  he'll  allow  nothing  in  the 
new  atmosphere  to  swerve  him  from  the  manly 
principles  which  thus  far  have  made  his  character 
so  strong  and  noble." 

"Mamma,  Robert  will  not  change,  only  to  be  bet- 
ter and  stronger,  if  that  were  possible,"  Mamie  ex- 
claimed quickly,  with  the  implicit  confidence  and 
trust  that  is  ever  the  heritage  of  the  younger  sister 
whose  brother  has  been  her  ideal  from  babyhood. 
"Robert  won't  do  wrong  things;  he  just  couldn't.1' 

"He  wouldn't  want  to,  I  know,  dear;  but  there  are 
temptations  that  every  young  person  must  meet 
when  they  venture  forth  into  the  world  that  none 
can  realize  until  they  are  confronted  with  them, 
and  though  Robert  is  the  best  boy  in  the  world 
to  us,  I  know  he  is  human.  There  is  always  the 
possibility  that  the  strongest  may  fail;  but  if  he 
comes  back  to  us,  when  his  college  work  is  done,  as 


HERE   AND   THERE  45 

true  a  son  and  brother  as  he  has  always  been,  I  shall 
have  little  fear  for  the  future/' 

It  did  seem  providential  in  more  ways  than  one 
that  Elder  Clayton  had  been  assigned  to  his  home 
mission  that  year.  Aside  from  the  comfort  and  help 
he  could  be  to  his  family,  there  was  an  abundant 
need  for  labor  to  be  done  in  this  district.  A  strong 
spirit  of  prejudice  was  prevalent  in  a  large  portion 
of  the  territory,  and  in  no  part  of  it  was  it  more 
apparent  than  in  the  little  village  where  they  lived. 
He  had  made  strenuous  efforts  that  summer  to 
arouse  an  interest  and  to  allay  this  prejudice  in  the 
minds  of  the  people  of  Banforth  and  to  do  his  ut- 
most to  spread  the  message  of  truth  among  the  peo- 
ple. Seconded  by  the  efforts  of  wife  and  daughter, 
the  inmates  of  the  brown  cottage,  and  the  faith- 
ful Farmer  Grayson  (the  latter  sparing  neither  time 
nor  means  in  order  to  help  him  get  to  the  different 
points  of  his  mission)  he  pushed  the  work  forward 
as  rapidly  as  possible,  meeting  with  a  degree  of  suc- 
cess in  some  places.  Strange  to  say,  however,  in 
Banforth  every  advance  move  he  undertook  to  make 
was  met  with  a  repulse.  Churches  and  halls  were 
alike  closed  against  him,  even  the  use  of  the  town 
park  was  obtained  with  the  greatest  difficulty,  and 
trustees  of  the  country  church  out  near  Farmer 
Grayson's  still  held  firmly  to  their  first  decision 
against  any  meetings  of  the  Latter  Day  Saints. 

So  the  little  band  had  to  content  themselves  that 
summer  by  holding  their  Sunday  school,  preaching 
services,  and  occasional  prayer  meetings  at  one  of 


46  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

the  two  cottages  in.  town,  with  an  occasional  Sunday 
in  the  park,  or  out  at  Farmer  Grayson's,  when  that 
good  farmer  had  time  to  drive  in  with  his  big  team 
and  wagon  after  them,  and  this,  with  a  one-week 
series,  constituted  the  extent  of  their  activities  until 
the  coolness  of  autumn  made  outdoor  meetings  no 
longer  comfortable  or  propitious. 


A  NEW  FRIENDSHIP  47 

CHAPTER  5 

A  NEW  FRIENDSHIP 

CLIFTON  CITY,  a  busy,  enterprising. little  place 
of  some  several  thousand  inhabitants,  occu- 
pied the  narrow  confines  of  a  strip  of  land 
but  little  more  than  a  half  mile  wide  and  some  three 
miles  in  length,  which  stretched  itself  in  a  long 
sweeping  half  circle  around  the  base  of  a  high  and 
precipitous  cliff.  Bending  about  the  city  on  its  outer 
side,  like  a  great  shimmering  bow,  were  the  clear 
shining  waters  of  Silver  River,  which  having  come 
thus  far  on  its  way  by  a  long,  circuitous  route, 
seemed  as  it  passed  around  the  city  to  have  suddenly 
gained  a  definite  purpose,  and  from  thenceforward 
took  a  straight  and  almost  unswerving  course  for 
many  miles  down  the  broadening  and  richly  fer- 
tile valley. 

Clifton  City  was  connected  with  the  commercial 
world  by  but  one  railroad,  but  the  traffic  which  fell 
to  its  lot  had  been  of  such  importance  that  the  com- 
pany erected  a  neat  and  imposing  brick  building 
to  accommodate  its  patrons.  Also  close  to  the  bank 
of  the  stream  it  had  established  good-sized  switch 
yards  and  built  a  commodious  freight  depot,  that 
the  products  of  the  factories  might  be  placed  with 
facility  upon  the  market.  The  town  boasted  of  a 
number  of  these  factories,  some  dealing  in  canned 
goods,  others  manufacturing  *  woolen  and  cotton 


46  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

fabrics.  A  small  foundry,  and  at  least  one  meat 
packing  establishment,  and  a  soap  factory  were  in 
evidence. 

The  majority  of  these  were  built  out  on  the  water's 
very  edge.  Commerce  was  not  entirely  monopolized 
by  the  railroad,  however,  for  the  river  was  navigable 
to  a  short  distance  above  the  city  and  occasional 
steamers  carried  goods  of  Clifton  City  manufacture 
down  the  river  to  other  points. 

But  while  Clifton  City  boasted  of  its  factories,  its 
thrift,  and  its  commerce,  and  looked  upon  its  enter- 
prises with  an  eye  of  satisfaction  in  much  the  same 
way  that  a  landed  proprietor  might  view  his  rich 
estates,  there  was  something  deeper  than  this  notice- 
able in  its  attitude  towards  the  institution  that  re- 
posed high  above  it  on  the  great  cliff — a  touching 
tenderness,   a ,  fond  pride,   a  solicitude   that  more 
nearly  resembled  a  parental  affection  for  the  child 
dependent  upon  its  love  and  care,  than  for  inanimate 
things  which  brought  returns  in  mere  dollars  and 
cents.     This  institution  was  the  Clifton  City  Col- 
lege, and  no  more  beautiful  site  could  have  been 
found  in  miles  around  than  the  one  selected.    Steep 
and  precipitous  as  was  the  cliff  on  its  northward 
curve,  to  the  southward  the  descent  was  a  long, 
gradual  slope  that  formed  an  ideal  location  for  build- 
ings and  campus.     The  buildings  themselves  were 
all  of  gray  stone,  solid  and  rugged  looking,  but  re- 
lieved and  softened  by  the  luxuriant  ivy  which  clung 
to  the  rough  walls  and  spread  itself  so  thickly  that 
when  the  summer  foliage  grew  heaviest  little  could 


A  NEW  FRIENDSHIP  49 

be  seen  of  them  but  the  broad  windows  and  occa- 
sional patches  of  gray  peeping  through.  The  campus 
was  bordered  by  elms  and  maples,  as  were  also  out- 
lined in  pleasing  relief  the  walks  and  driveways; 
but  great  native  trees  of  nature's  own  planting, 
grown  strong  and  enduring  with  the  years,  lent 
their  special  charm  of  adornment  to  the  grounds, 
while  at  the  foot  of  the  slope  was  a  heavy  grove  of 
oak,  ash,  hickory,  and  cottonwood,  where  students 
in  the  fall  and  early  spring  evenings  were  wont  to 
hie  themselves  for  the  "weenie"  and  marshmallow 
roasts,  or  for  moonlight  picnics.  In  the  autumn  time, 
when  the  frost,  lingering  in  the  valleys  and  creeping 
up  the  hillsides,  touched  these  masses  of  foliage  and 
turned  them  into  flaming  scarlet,  and  mingled  with 
it  the  gleaming,  sunshiny  gold  of  the  maples  and  the 
deep-toned  browns  and  greens  of  the  oaks,  the  hill- 
side became  one  riot  of  color.  Clifton  people  fully 
believed  this  scene  rivaled  the  picturesqueness  of 
any  found  in  the  eastern  hills,  or  even  among  the 
Rockies. 

Resting  thus  far  above  the  city,  connected  with  it 
only  by  a  single  street  car  line  and  highway,  thus 
away  from  the  confusion  and  jostle  of  its  streets, 
free  from  its  heat  and  din,  above  the  dust  and  smoke 
of  its  factories,  it  had  that  higher,  broader  outlook 
of  the  world  which  seemed  typical  of  its  culture 
and  purpose. 

As  Robert  one  fine  September  afternoon  climbed 
the  long  hill  with  the  springing  buoyancy  of  youth, 
and  followed  the  winding  pathway  that  led  through 
VS— 4 


50  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

the  little  birch  grove  at  his  right,  his  eyes  feasted 
on  the  beauty  of  the  landscape  as  his  soul  for  the 
past  few  days  had  reveled  in  the  opportunities  for 
learning  that  were  widening  before  him.  His  was  a 
deep,  earnest  mind,  that  delighted  in  delving  into 
the  stores  of  knowledge  and  searching  out  her  hidden 
treasures,  and  never  before  had  he  been  so  free  and 
unrestrained  in  this  purpose  as  he  had  felt  since  en- 
tering upon  this  new,  glad  college  life. 

Stopping  as  he  reached  the  upper  edge  of  the  birch 
grove,  he  bared  his  head  to  the  soft  breeze  drifting 
up  from  the  valley. 

"It's  great/'  he  murmured;  "the  wooded  valley 
down  there,  the  river,  and  the  hills ;  but  most  of  all 
this  hill  itself — the  campus  and  the  buildings  and  all 
they  stand  for — I  wish  the  folks  at  home  could 
see  it." 

Only  for  a  moment,  then  he  resumed  his  course 
up  the  hill ;  for  he  wished  to  prepare  one  lesson  for 
the  morrow  before  the  supper  bell  rang;  besides  he 
had  few  moments  for  leisure  or  idle  contemplation. 

The  room  Robert  had  selected  was  little  more  than 
a  small  corner  in  the  very  top  story  of  the  boys' 
main  dormitory.  He  had  taken  it,  not  from  choice, 
but  for  economy's  sake;  for  on  account  of  being 
small,  poorly  located,  and  difficult  to  heat,  it  was  of- 
fered at  the  cheapest  rates.  Its  inconveniences  were 
partly  compensated  by  the  splendid  view  that  could 
be  obtained  from  the  one  window.  For  miles  and 
miles  one  could  see  up  the  river  to  the  hills  partly 
covered  with  forests,  their  crests  veiled  in  shadowy 


A  NEW  FRIENDSHIP  51 

mists  of  purple.  Narrow,  beautiful  valleys,  threaded 
by  a  stream  or  roadway,  lost  themselves  among 
theni.  Just  beneath  lay  a  portion  of  the  little  city, 
its  boat  landings  plainly  visible,  its  factory  walls 
dingy  and  smoky,  while  here  and  there  the  occa- 
sional glimmer  of  a  tall  spire  indicated  a  place  of 
worship.  Robert  had  been  at  Clifton  City  as  yet 
but  a  short  while,  but  he  had  already  ascertained 
that  none  of  them  were  representative  of  his  own 
faith,  and  among  the  hundreds  of  students  that 
crowded  the  college  halls  he  had  met  with  no  familiar 
faces.  It  was  all  new  and  strange,  and  yet  to  his 
liking,  except — yes,  he  would  be  glad  to  find  among 
that  throng  one  of  his  own  religious  belief.  Not 
that  he  felt  particularly  alone;  not  that  he  lacked 
companionship  or  held  himself  aloof  from  the  society 
of  other  students.  Quite  to  the  contrary,  his  friendly 
nature  and  genuine  love  for  his  associates  had  al- 
ready won  for  himself  friends  among  the  students, 
as  they  had  won  for  him  the  good  will  and  loyalty 
of  the  high  school  boys  at  Banf orth.  No,  he  had  felt 
no  lack  in  that  respect,  but  he  did  miss  the  other  as 
he  had  missed  it  when  they  had  first  moved  to  Ban- 
forth. 

He  had  never  felt  this  more  keenly  than  he  did 
the  following  afternoon.  An  irritating  nervous 
headache  had  been  troubling  him  all  day  and  was 
leaving  him  decidedly  out  of  spirits.  As  he  stood  at 
one  side  idly  watching  a  long  line  of  students  stream 
out  of  the  hallway  of  the  main  building  and  cross  the 
campus  to  the  Medical  Hall,  he  suddenly  had  a  great 


52  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

desire  to  know  if  among  them  there  were  any  who 
were  allied  with  the  same  faith  as  he.  His  last  class 
period  was  finished  for  that  day,  and  with  a  sudden 
impulse  he  turned  and  entered  the  great  building 
from  which  the  long  line  had  now  entirely  emerged, 
and  passing  down  the  hall,  went  straight  to  the  reg- 
istrar's office.  Obtaining  permission  of  the  assistant 
at  the  desk,  he  sat  down  by  the  table  and  began  run- 
ning through  the  registration  cards. 

It  seemed  almost  an  endless  task,  and  the  young 
man,  after  searching  for  a  long  time,  began  to  think 
it  a  fruitless  one,  when  at  last  he  paused,  his  hand 
on  a  card  filled  out  in  a  free  and  easy-flowing  hand- 
writing: "William  Maxwell  Gibson,"  he  read,  "born 

August  15,  18 ,"  (age  twenty-one,  was  Robert's 

mental  calculation).  "Denomination,  Latter  Day 
Saint  (Reorganized  Church),  parent's  name,  Wil- 
liam Henry  Gibson ;  residence,  Brighton,  North  Da- 
kota; Commercial  Department." 

Robert's  heart  gave  a  great  bound. 

"Brighton — where  have  I  heard  that  name?  Must 
be  one  of  the  places  where  father  was  last  winter. 
Seems  to  me  I've  heard  somebody  mention  it.  Why, 
sure  it  is — that  was  Miss  Janey's  post  office  address 
last  winter  and  where  father  was  for  a  short  time. 
Maybe  it's  one  of  the  very  families  he  baptized, 
though  I  don't  remember  hearing  Janey  speak  of 
him — let's  see — "  glancing  over  the  card  again, 
"  'William  Maxwell  Gibson,'  age  twenty-one — sounds 
pretty  good,  just  the  right  age  to  be  companionable 


A  NEW  FRIENDSHIP  53 

if  he's  the  right  sort.    Well,  whoever  he  is,  he'll  look 
good  to  me  to-day,  for  I'm  blue  as  indigo." 

Robert  copied  down  the  name  and  room  assign- 
ment. The  large  body  of  commercial  students  were 
in  class  at  that  hour,  so  he  must  wait.  The  room 
was  in  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  building,  number  ten,  second 
floor,  one  of  the  best  rooms,  Robert  took  mental 
note  as  he  passed  that  building  on  his  way  back  and 
located  it. 

"Whoever  he  is  he  must  have  ample  means  to  pay 
his  way,"  was  his  conclusion,  "and  not  a  poor  duck 
like  me." 

That  evening  he  lost  no  time  after  his  menial  task 
at  the  restaurant  kitchen  was  finished,  but  before 
going  to  his  room  for  study,  he  crossed  the  campus 
again  to  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  building,  and  traversing 
the  long  corridor  of  the  second  floor,  knocked  at  room 
number  ten.  It  was  answered  instantly  by  a  cordial, 
"Come  in,"  and  Robert,  opening  the  door,  stepped 
into  a  large,  pleasant  room,  comfortable  and.  well 
furnished.  A  young  man,  rather  handsomely  built, 
dressed  in  light  trousers  and  loose  lounging  jacket, 
sat  tipped  back  in  his  chair,  with  his  feet  resting  on 
the  sill  of  the  big  south  window.  About  him  were 
scattered  books  and  papers  promiscuously,  and  in  his 
hands  were  pencil,  tablet,  and  textbook.  The  face 
he  turned  toward  his  visitor  was  sun-tanned  to  a 
deep  brown;  the  blue  eyes,  large  and  expressive; 
and  the  thick  mop  of  hair  looked  as  though  it  had 
been  considerably  rumpled  by  restless  fingers  while 


54  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

the  brain  wrestled  with  ledger  accounts  and  com- 
putations. 

"Mr.  Gibson?"  Robert  asked  simply,  closing  the 
door  and  advancing  into  the  middle  of  the  room. 

"It  is,"  replied  the  other,  still  remaining  seated, 
but  looking  at  him  with  frank,  inquiring  eyes. 

"Pardon  me;  my  name's  Robert  Clayton — a 
stranger  to  you,  but  I'm  a  Latter  Day  Saint,  and  I 
found  your  name  registered  as  one  also,  and — 
thought — maybe  you'd  be  glad  to  meet " 

William  Maxwell  Gibson's  feet  came  down  from 
their  elevated  position  with  a  thump,  the  book,  tab- 
let, and  pencil  flew  in  various  directions,  as  he  sprang 
up,  and  there  was  a  warmth  in  his  tone  and  a  wel- 
come in  his  handclasp  that  promised  well  for  the 
friendship  of  the  two  young  men. 

"Should  say  I  am  glad — what's  the  name  again? 
— Robert  Clayton?  Clayton — why,  why,  we  had  an 
Elder  Clayton  out  our  way  last  winter  who  baptized 
most  of  our  family — any  relation  to  him?" 

"Rather  think  I  am  some,"  Robert  replied  with  a 
laugh,  and  then  with  a  touch  of  pride  in  his  voice, 
"He's  my  father." 

"Possible!  That's  great!  Well,  can't  say  but 
there  is  a  likeness  all  right.  Here,  have  a  chair  and 
pray  excuse  the  appearance  of  this  room.  Don't  have 
time  to  keep  it  straight  with  all  these  pesky  prob- 
lems in  mathematics  to  work  out,  ledger  accounts  to 
keep,  and  penmanship  practice.  You  see  I've  let 
the  wheels  get  pretty  well  clogged  up  while  I've  been 
planting  potatoes  and  sowing  wheat  the  past  few 


A  NEW  FRIENDSHIP  55 

years,  and  my  mental  machinery's  got  rusty  lying 
around.  Takes  some  time  to  get  it  oiled  up  and  in 
good  working  order  again,"  and  the  young  man 
laughed  good-naturedly  as  he  emptied  the  chair  of 
a  load  of  papers,  so  Robert  could  sit  down. 

Robert  joined  in  the  laugh,  and  with  it  the  last 
vestige  of  formality  or  strangeness  between  them 
was  gone.  For  the  first  time  since  Robert  had  left 
home,  books  and  study  were  neglected  while  they 
talked  and  laughed  together  in  comradely  fashion 
and  the  evening  slipped  by.  Before  they  separated 
for  the  night  each  felt  as  though  he  had  known  the 
other  for  years. 


56  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

CHAPTER  6 

THE    CHALLENGE 

CLIFTON  COLLEGE  was  not  unlike  other  col- 
leges in  most  of  its  customs.  It  had  the  usual 
number  of  clubs,  fraternal  societies,  soror- 
ities, and  social  organizations  of  various  kinds.  Chief 
among  these  were  two  literary  societies  which  were 
about  equally  divided  as  to  numbers,  as  they  may 
have  been  said  to  be  equally  aspiring  in  their  efforts 
to  excel  each  other  and  gain  the  highest  honors.  So 
great  rivalry  had  existed  between  them  at  times  as 
to  have  engendered  a  considerable  degree  of  envy 
and  jealousy  among  some  of  the  members  of  their 
ranks. 

The  older  of  these  two  organizations  distinguished 
itself  by  the  name  of  The  Agathean  Club,  thereby 
announcing  its  temperament  and  principles  to  be 
rather  on  the  aristocratic  order.  It  prided  itself  as 
having  within  its  circle  only  such  students  as  came 
from  the  most  "select"  families,  which  "select"  pri- 
vately interpreted  by  some  of  the  students,  was  not 
always  confined  to  families  of  rank  or  long-standing 
honor,  but  was  meant  to  include  those  who  had  plenty 
of  money  and  were  willing  to  spend  it  lavishly. 

With  a  more  democratic  idea  in  mind,  and  in  con- 
sideration of  the  brotherly  feeling  the  term  implied, 
the  members  of  the  other  society  had  chosen  to  style 
themselves  Erodelphians. 


THE   CHALLENGE  57 

It  numbered  in  its  ranks  only  those  students  who 
came  from  the  common  walks  of  life.  It  made  no 
distinction  on  account  of  money,  or  rank,  or  family. 
It  did,  however,  make  a  few  requirements  of  those, 
asking  for  admittance ;  one  of  these  was  their  stand- 
ing as  students ;  another,  personal  conduct.  Some  of 
its  members  were  there  by  choice,  and  some  were 
there  because  they  had  not  money  to  admit  them  to 
the  other. 

With  the  latter  of  these  two  organizations  very 
early  in  the  fall  the  names  of  Robert  Clayton  and 
William  Maxwell  Gibson  were  enrolled.  The  former 
could  not  have  entered  the  Agathean  Club  if  he  had 
been  so  inclined,  having  neither  money  nor  family 
rank  to  entitle  him  to  membership,  and  the  latter, 
though  having  sufficient  funds,  had  that  broader  feel- 
ing towards  humanity  which  was  so  fully  expressed 
in  the  translation,  "We  are  brothers," 

The  Erodelphians,  however,  during  the  past  year 
had  met  with  a  series  of  defeats  that  'had  been  dis- 
couraging and  disheartening  to  its  membership.  In 
various  competitions,  sometimes  justly,  but  more 
than  once  unjustly  as  thought  by  some,  it  had  been 
pronounced  the  loser.  Popular  opinion  had,  of 
course,  to  a  large  extent,  favored  the  Agatheans, 
and  popular  opinion  has  the  peculiar  knack  of 
knowing  how  to  assist  some  judges  in  making  their 
decisions  with  reference  to  the  winner  of  a  contest, 
whether  of  oratory,  debate,  athletics,  or  whatever 
the  case  may  be.  Injustice  had  been  meted  out  to 
the  Erodelphians  more  than  once  in  this  way,  and 


58  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

the  Agatheans  had  become  unduly  boastful  over 
their  success. 

So  it  was  that  when  our  two  young  friends  en- 
tered that  fall  they  found  the  condition  of  the  society 
in  a  low  state  of  spirits,  the  members  disheartened, 
the  forces  broken,  enthusiasm  wanting,  leadership 
lacking,  and  a  general  state  of  inactivity  prevailing. 
Neither  Robert  nor  William  were  the  kind  to  enter 
into  anything  and  remain  inactive.  If  they  were 
to  take  part  it  must  be  to  some  purpose,  else  what 
was  the  use  of  entering?  Both  were  full  of  the  vigor 
and  enthusiasm  of  young  manhood,  and  both  were 
energetic  in  whatever  they  might  undertake.  Con- 
sequently when  they  found  themselves  together  in 
the  same  cause,  working  for  the  same  ends,  keenly 
sensing  the  rivalry  they  had  to  meet  from  the  other 
society,  instead  of  giving  way  at  once  to  feelings  of 
defeat  and  inconsequence,  they  allowed  it  only  to 
whet  their  wits  to  a  keener  edge.  And  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  two  healthy,  sound,  strong-minded,  enthusi- 
astic young  men  could  not  join  their  forces  with 
any  cause,  however  inert,  without  infusing  new  life 
and  energy  into  it  and  making  their  influence  felt  to 
a  large  degree.  And  so  it  occurred  that  but  a  short 
while  after  their  names  were  enrolled  on  the  books 
of  the  Erodelphians,  a  change  became  noticeable,  new 
life  seemed  to  animate  their  circle,  and  a  spirit  of 
activity  awakened  them  from  their  dormant  leth- 
argy. Reorganization  was  soon  talked  of,  decided 
upon,  action  was  taken  accordingly,  and  the  result 
of  the  first  election  of  officers  was  the  astonishing 


THE  CHALLENGE  59 

one  of  placing  Robert  as  president,  with  Billy  close 
by  him  as  vice  president.  Both  were  surprised,  ut- 
terly taken  aback,  and  both  for  the  moment  were 
dismayed ;  nevertheless,  both  felt  that  there  was  no 
alternative,  no  looking  backward  in  contradiction 
to  their  enthusiastic  speeches  on  several  occasions 
to  "push"  and  "push  hard." 

"It  is  like  this,  Gibson,"  Robert  said  as  the  two 
walked  along  the  street  together  after  the  meeting, 
"we've  got  to  make  good;  that's  all  there  is  to  it. 
Somehow  or  other  the  fellows  have  the  idea  that  we 
can  make  the  thing  go,  and  we  mustn't  fail  'em. 
There  are  heaps  of  plans  running  through  my  brain, 
more  than  we'd  have  time  to  accomplish  in  three 
years,  to  say  nothing  of  one ;  but  we  must  prove  to 
the  Agatheans  that  we  can  win  in  something,  and 
that'll  do  more  to  encourage  our  boys  than  anything 
else." 

"That's  the  stuff,"  declared  Billy,  with  customary 
emphasis  and  cheerful  disregard  of  polite  phrases, 
"and  we'll  do  it,  too,  Bob  Clayton;  see  if  we  don't. 
Our  boys  are  every  bit  their  equal  in  muscle,  and  have 
twice  the  brains,  if  they'll  only  wake  up  and  show 
them  what  they  can  do.  Anyhow,  as  we  were  not 
here  last  year  and  haven't  the  experience  back  of 
us,  we're  just  green  enough  to  believe  we  can  suc- 
ceed, and  to  try." 

"I'm  mighty  glad  they  elected  you  instead  of 
Del  Kenson.  Del  hasn't  much  push,  and  I  know  we 
can  work  together.  I  only  wish  it  had  been  put  the 
other  way  about  with  us  and  you  had  my  place.  You 


60  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

can  make  the  skies  look  brighter  in  two  minutes  than 
anybody  else  I  ever  saw." 

"Nonsense!"  exclaimed  Billy,  disclaiming  any 
credit.  "I'd  be  a  poor  stick  if  you  weren't  at  the 
head  of  the  thing.  You've  got  enough  executive 
ability  to  constitute  a  general.  I  couldn't  go  ahead 
and  organize  like  you  can  to  save  my  life,  but  I  can 
back  you  up  and  boost  a  bit,  and  I'm  glad  they  put 
you  in  your  proper  place.  But  it's  not  very  late," 
he  added,  as  they  paused  on  the  steps  of  the  Y.  M. 
C.  A.  building.  "S'pose  you  come  in  -for  a  few  min- 
utes and  we'll  run  over  some  of  your  plans  and  then 
we  can  both  be  thinking  about  them  in  the  meantime. 
We'll  have  to  get  busy,  that's  sure." 

"You're  right  there,"  acceded  Robert,  without 
hesitation  turning  in.  "I  believe  I  will  stop  and  talk 
things  over  with  you  a  little  while." 

The  two  proceeded  quickly  up  the  steps  to  the  sec- 
ond floor,  and  down  the  long  corridor  to  Billy's  room. 

"Now  dispose  yourself  according  to  your  likes," 
said  Billy,  hospitably,  as  he  flung  the  door  open  and 
tossed  his  cap  carelessly  on  the  table,  motioning  for 
Robert  to  do  likewise.  "There's  the  couch,  or  here's 
the  easy  chair  (and  it's  a  dandy  to  lounge  in) — or 
you  may  sit  on  the  table,  or  even  the  floor,  if  you 
wish." 

"Thanks,"  replied  Robert,  but  choosing  a  straight- 
backed  chair  and  drawing  it  up  to  the  table.  "I'll 
return  your  courtesy  when  you  visit  my  humble 
abode  by  offering  you  a  goods  box  or  a  low  stool.  I 
don't  usually  scorn  your  rockers  and  easy  couches 


THE  CHALLENGE  61 

when  I  have  a  chance,  but  I'll  accept  none  of  your 
easy  things  to-night  for  I'm  all  business  and  believe 
I  can  do  my  work  better  here." 

"Just  as  you  say/'  replied  Billy;  "and  to  be  con- 
genial I'll  take  a  straight-back  too,  though  it's 
against  my  principles,"  and  turning  one  around,  he 
sat  down  astride  of  the  back,  his  arms  resting  com- 
fortably upon  the  top.  "Now,  fire  away  with  your 
big  plans." 

"The  fact  is,"  began  Robert,  scarcely  waiting  for 
his  friend  to  get  settled,  "you  know  how  the  Aga- 
theans  are  feeling  elated  over  their  successes  of  last 
year,  and  they're  already  threatening  to  challenge  us. 
I  heard  in  a  roundabout  way  among  the  boys  that 
they're  talking  track  meet  for  some  time  next 
month.  If  that's  so,  I  believe  we  can  make  a  good 
showing,  and  I'm  rather  hoping  it  is  so.  I'm  inclined 
to  think  that  in  the  short  time  we  have  for  prepara- 
tion we'll  stand  a  better  chance  to  beat  'em  in  ath- 
letics than  in  oratory  or  debate;  for  we  can  soon 
sound  the  strength  of  our  boys,  and  if  we  make  a 
success  of  this  it'll  go  a  long  ways  to  encourage 
them  for  future  work." 

"Capital,"  agreed  Billy,  "and  I'm  not  afraid  to 
take  a  try  at  some  of  those  kinds  of  stunts  myself— 
say  a  hundred-yard  dash  or  a  half  mile  run,  provided 
somebody  will  coach  me  a  bit.  I've  never  done 
the  work,  you  know,  on  an  out  and  out  track,"  he 
added  modestly,  "but  some  of  us  boys  up  there  in 
Dakota  got  the  notion  a  year  or  two  ago  that  we 
could  do  about  as  well  as  some  of  these  college  fel- 


62  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

lows  we  read  about  in  the  State  contests,  and  we 
clipped  in  for  a  try  of  it.  There's  plenty  of  room  up 
there  to  run  if  you  want  to,"  he  chuckled,  "and  so 
we  tried  it  out  upon  the  long  ridges.  One  of  us  got 
a  book  and  we  studied  breathing  and  motion  and  a 
lot  of  things  along  with  them,  and  we  practiced  the 
half  mile  and  mile  runs,  the  fifty  and  hundred-yard 
dashes,  and  did  cross-country  trotting  to  a  fare-you- 
well,  and  sometimes  we  didn't  make  any  mean  rec- 
ord, either." 

"Good!"  exclaimed  Robert,  whose  enthusiasm  had 
been  rising  with  every  sentence  of  Billy's  narration, 
and  whose  mind  was  leaping  rapidly  forward  to  the 
possibilities.  "You  have  the  muscle,  too,  tough  and 
well  seasoned  with  outdoor  life,  that  will  outdo  a 
lot  of  these  fellows  that  are  soft  yet  and  have  to  work 
up  to  it  by  degrees." 

"I'll  need  considerable  coaching,  likely,"  Billy  in- 
terposed. "You  see  we  got  out  there  only  what  we 
could  practice  and  from  the  books.  Our  work  was 
lame,  I  haven't  a  doubt." 

"Never  mind;  I  can  give  you  a  little  of  that  my- 
self. I  did  most  of  the  training  of  the  high  school 
boys  at  Banforth  last  year,  and  when  we  lived  at 
Fairfield  a  number  of  us  had  a  chance  to  get  train- 
ing from  one  of  the  best  athletes  in  the  State.  Say, 
but  he  was  a  dandy!  Besides,  I  know  Professor 
Lowe  will  give  us  help  any  time  we  ask  it.  The  main 
thing  with  me  is  to  get  the  time." 

"Two  can  wash  dishes  faster  than  one,"  sug- 
gested Billy,  "if  one  is  a  green  hand ;  and  some  day 


THE  CHALLENGE  63 

when  we're  in  a  hurry  to  get  out  to  the  field,  we'll 
see." 

"Thanks,"  replied  Robert,  "I  won't  reject  an  offer 
like  that.  I'm  not  afraid  to  try  the  fellows  on  an 
eight-eighty  run  myself,  after  I've  had  a  little  prac- 
tice ;  I  think  we've  a  number  of  pretty  good  runners 
among  our  boys,  and  as  for  pole  vaulting  I  saw  that 
Archie  Brownell  do  the  slickest,  neatest  thing  the 
other  day.  I  honestly  believe  there's  not  another 
student  in  college  could  have  done  it.  I'm  going  to 
mark  him  down  for  that  right  now.  I've  seen  several 
doing  good  work  on  the  short  dashes  and  the  broad 
jumps,  too.  As  for  the  discus  throwing,  I  don't 
know  what  about  that.  Hadn't  we  better  get  the  boys 
together  some  time  to-morrow  and  sound  our  forces 
a  bit?" 

"So  I  should  think — not  a  day  later  than  to-mor- 
row, if  you  can  possibly  do  it,"  acquiesced  Billy.  "We 
want  to  be  ready  for  the  Agaths  any  time,  and  head 
'em  off  before  they  know  it.  What  do  we  need?  Any 
paraphernalia  to  begin  with?  Let  me  know  what's 
wanted." 

Robert  looked  up  a  trifle  absently  this  time,  from 
the  list  of  names  he  was  busy  jotting  down  on  a  piece 
of  paper  and  making  unintelligible  signs  opposite, 
and  reflected.  "I'll  see,"  he  said  after  a  moment. 
"There's  no  rush  about  that  now.  Of  course  there 
will  be  track  suits  and  so  forth  to  see  about,  but 
we  won't  bother  about  anything  of  that  sort  till  we 
see  them  all  to-morrow  and  find  out  whether  the 
meet  will  come  off  or  not.  We  want  the  other  side 


64  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

to  do  the  challenging — we  don't  care  to  do  that,  but 
I'm  reasonably  certain  they're  going  to  do  it,  and 
right  away,  too." 

A  sudden  flicker  of  the  electric  lights  brought  the 
two  friends  from  the  absorption  of  their  task  and 
to  a  realization  of  the  quick  flight  of  time.  It  was 
the  warning  signal  for  everyone  to  be  in  his  own 
room.  Five  minutes  later  the  outer  doors  would  be 
locked  and  the  lights  would  go  out. 

"Whilikens!"  exclaimed  Robert,  springing  to  his 
feet.  "Who'd  have  thought  it  was  that  time?  I'll 
have  to  make  a  dash  for  my  room  at  two-forty  gait 
or  I'll  be  locked  out.  When  can  we  meet?"  fishing 
his  cap  from  the  deluge  of  papers  they  had  scattered 
over  the  table. 

"Any  time  you  say,"  replied  Billy.  "How  about 
to-morrow  afternoon  at  four  o'clock?  Can  you  get 
away  at  that  time?" 

"Guess  that's  about  as  good  a  time  as  any,"  Rob- 
ert made  answer,  as  he  hurried  down  the  hallway 
and  stairs.  "Tell  the  secretary  first  thing  in  the 
morning,  will  you,  Gibson?"  he  called  back  from  the 
outer  door,  "and  have  him  notify  them  as  soon  as 
possible,"  and  he  was  gone. 

Billy  hoisted  the  window  and  yelled  after  his 
rapidly  retreating  figure,  outlined  clearly  in  the 
moonlight,  "Go  it,  Clayton;  clip  to  it.  An  Agath 
won't  stand  any  show  'gainst  that  kind  of  sprinting." 
And  the  window  went  down  again  with  a  thump. 

The  following  afternoon  at  the  appointed  hour  a 
goodly  representation  of  the  Erodelphian  Society 


THE   CHALLENGE  65 

gathered  on  the  athletic  field  adjoining  the  college 
gymnasium  building.  The  challenge  from  the  Aga- 
theans  had  been  forthcoming  that  morning,  and  as 
they  assembled  on  the  field  and  began  to  discuss 
plans,  enthusiasm  soon  reached  a  high  pitch.  Billy 
visited  each  cluster  of  boys  as  they  gathered  here 
and  there,  and  talked  with  his  characteristic  zeal  and 
animation,  which  added  to  their  courage ;  then  Rob- 
ert appearing  a  trifle  later  called  them  all  together 
and,  elevating  himself  on  the  remains  of  an  old 
broken  wheelbarrow  that  by  chance  had  been  left 
near  the  grounds,  delivered  such  a  spirited  speech  as 
fired  the  heart  of  every  listener  to  do  his  utmost  for 
the  cause  he  represented.  Several  made  a  mental 
note  of  this  occurrence,  feeling  that  if  the  Agatheans 
ever  challenged  them  for  an  oratory  contest  or  de- 
bate, that  the  Erodelphians  need  not  fear  to  meet 
the  emergency. 

The  result  was  that  when  they  dispersed  that  eve- 
ning everyone  present  felt  determined  to  do  his  part 
against  all  odds  for  the  success  of  the  whole.  And 
this  feeling  had  not  abated  one  whit  when  they  met 
for  the  next  practice,  this  time  not  on  the  college 
field  but  on  the  high  school  ball  ground  southeast  of 
the  town,  which  they  felt  would  be  quieter,  and 
where  they  would  be  less  disturbed  by  others.  Most 
of  these  boys  knew  the  value  of  work  and  training. 
Some  of  them  were  among  the  number  who  had  been 
beaten  the  year  before  in  contests  with  Agatheans, 
but  all  were  united  in  the  one  purpose  to  work,  and 
to  work  and  win,  and  they  went  at  it  with  a  vim 
VS— 5 


66  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

that  looked  promising  to  Robert,  and  to  the  profes- 
sor who  had  been  called  into  service  in  the  training. 
Both  he  and  Robert  were  kept  busy  criticizing,  en- 
couraging, directing,  making  notes,  and  assigning 
places. 

"Fine,  Billy;  that  was  a  dandy  run,"  Robert  cried 
enthusiastically,  as  Billy  finished  the  half  mile  trial 
run  around  the  track.  "You'll  make  good  on  the 
eight-eighty  all  right,  won't  he,  Professor  Lowe?" 

"Quite  well  done  in  the  main,"  replied  the  profes- 
sor, cautiously  qualifying  his  commendation.  "You 
seem  to  have  the  first  requisites  to  a  successful 
half-miler,  Gibson — good  wind,  which  means  en- 
durance, well-seasoned  muscles,  and  I  see  you're  not 
afraid  of  hard  work." 

"That's  the  truth,"  interjected  Robert. 

"However,"  the  professor  continued  quietly, 
"there  are  some  improvements  which  you  must  make. 
First,  under  the  strain  incident  to  the  final  dash  of 
the  run  you  must  be  on  your  guard  to  prevent  your 
muscles  from  disobeying  your  will.  Prevent  un- 
necessary fatigue  by  reducing  the  lost  motion  to  a 
minimum.  Second,  shorten  your  stride  a  little  in 
the  finish,  but  don't  make  it  'choppy.'  Third,  hold 
your  head  erect  and  extend  your  chest  a  little  more. 

"It  might  be  well  to  caution  you,  also,"  he  added 
as  Robert  was  about  to  speak,  "that  above  all  it  is 
necessary  to  cultivate  the  art  of  self-possession. 
Don't  allow  yourself  to  waste  nervous  energy  be- 
cause of  the  excitement  which  may  prevail.  Remem- 


THE  CHALLENGE  67 

ber  that  at  all  times  and  under  all  circumstances  the 
mind  should  be  master." 

"That  was  more  praise  than  the  prof  usually 
finds  convenient  to  offer,"  declared  Robert,  as  Pro- 
fessor Lowe  moved  off  to  another  part  of  the  field. 
"That  much  from  him  means  a  lot,  and  I  feel  right 
now  that  we're  going  to  be  able  to  bank  on  you  for 
a  winner  in  the  half  mile." 

"What  about  yourself?"  asked  Billy.  "Ain't  that 
your  special  stunt?  You'd  better  run,  too." 

"We'll  see  a  little  later,"  Robert  replied,  briefly. 
"If  it  seems  necessary  to  make  doubly  sure,  we 
can  both  run,  though  I  rather  think  you'll  be  able 
to  beat  me  if  I  don't  look  out." 

Over  on  the  other  side  of  the  field  at  this  mo- 
ment Archie  Brownell  was  demonstrating  his 
agility  in  pole  vaulting,  and  Jack  Jones  was  mak- 
ing some  long  shots  in  discus  throwing.  Before 
the  hour  of  practice  work  was  over,  Jess  Benson 
was  counted  as  good  on  the  hundred-yard  dash, 
"though  you'd  better  get  ready  for  that,  too,"  Rob- 
ert whispered  confidentially  to  Billy.  "He's  all 
right  if  he  doesn't  lose  his  head,  but  I'm  a  little 
fearful,  and  that  brother  of  his  can  run  like  a  race 
horse  when  it  comes  to  a  short  distance.  He'll  be 
able  to  make  it  on  the  fifty-yard  dash,  but  he  hasn't 
enough  wind  for  a  longer  run." 

And  so  it  went  through  the  list  of  tests  that  try 
the  skill  and  muscle  of  ambitious  youth. 


68  A  VINEYARD    STORY 


CHAPTER  7 

"WE  ARE  BROTHERS" 

"Ho  for  the  Agatheans!  Ri!  ri!  ri! 
'Round  the  race  track  watch  us  fly; 
The  prize  we'll  take — 
The  race  we'll  make — 
Zip!   Buzz!    Speed  high! 
Ri!  ri!  ri!" 

The  yell  came  in  a  resounding  chorus  from  lusty 
throats  as  the  rooters  for  the  Agatheans  streamed 
across  the  campus,  their  purple  and  gold  pennants 
now  fluttering  gayly,  now  waving  wildly,  according 
to  the  vigor  of  their  demonstrations.  Like  an  an- 
swering echo  came  the  rival  yell  from  a  cluster  of 
the  supporters  of  the  Erodelphian  cause,  easily  dis- 
tinguished by  their  navy  caps  with  white  bands  and 
their  navy  and  white  ribbons  : 

"Erodelphians,  best  in  the  land, 
Ready,  steady,  valiant  band! 
Nerve,  pluck,  courage,  grit, 
Earn  it,  win  it,  get  up,  git. 
Ero,   Ero,  'way  we  go! 
Who  Ro?    Who  Ro?    Ero-o!" 

A  wild  yell  of  derision  from  their  opponents,  one 
of  approval  from  a  few  of  the  bystanders,  all  of 
which  were  soon  drowned  by  successive  rival  yells 
which  followed  close  upon  each  other  until  every- 
thing was  in  readiness  for  the  sport  to  begin. 


"WE   ARE    BROTHERS"  69 

The  day  was  ideal  in  every  respect,  with  fresh, 
inspiriting  October  air,  and  mellow  sunlight  that 
threaded  its  gold  amid  that  of  the  remaining  yellow 
leaves  which  still  clung  daringly  to  their  homely 
boughs  in  sturdy  defiance  of  nature's  stern  decree. 
The  oaks  alone  held  their  summer  robes  still  in- 
tact without  rent  or  signs  of  fraying,  an  evidence 
of  the  enduring  qualities  of  the  material  with  which 
they  were  made.  Unchanged  they  were,  save  as  to 
color,  and  Jack  Frost,  who  seemed  to  have  a  decided 
aversion  to  green,  and  whose  dye  pots  always  are 
plentifully  supplied  with  brilliant  materials,  no  mat- 
ter what  the  shortage  may  be  elsewhere,  had  ca- 
priciously turned  them  from  the  deep  greens  to  the 
rich  reds  and  browns  that  better  suited  his  own 
artistic  fancy.  The  ivy  hung  like  mantles  of  scarlet 
about  the  great  gray  stone  buildings  on  Clifton 
Heights,  and  far  below,  the  shining  surface  of 
Silver  River  reflected  the  deep  blue  and  peaceful 
serenity  of  the  sky. 

The  campus  was  alive  with  spectators  in  gala 
attire.  It  seemed  as  though  almost  all  Clifton  City 
had  turned  out  for  the  occasion.  Even  many  of  the 
neighboring  towns  were  represented,  actuated  by 
the  interest  they  had  in  certain  students  from  their 
own  vicinity.  A  considerable  degree  of  excitement 
prevailed,  and  there  was  an  abundance  of  sympa- 
thizers for  either  side,  though  it  was  felt  by  the 
boys  of  the  Erodelphian  Society  as  they  prepared 
themselves  for  duty,  that  the  Agatheans  had  the 
best  of  them  in  that  respect. 


70  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

"How  you  feeling,  Billy?"  Robert  asked,  as  hur- 
rying through  the  gymnasium  building  on  some 
errand,  he  ran  across  that  young  gentleman  calmly 
making  his  final  preparations  for  the  field. 

"Fine  as  a  fiddle/'  replied  his  comrade,  heartily. 
"Never  felt  better  in  my  life.  What  do  you  say? 
Am  I  to  help  Benson  out  with  that  hundred-yard 
dash,  or  do  you  and  the  prof  feel  pretty  sure  he 
can  make  it?" 

Robert  paused.  "Professor  Lowe  thinks  he'll  do, 
though  weVe  both  been  a  little  doubtful  at  times, 
Gibson.  If  I  were  sure  you  wouldn't  get  done  up 
for  the  half  mile  run,  I'd  ask  you  to  take  this,  too. 
I'm  no  good  at  all  myself  on  a  short  dash.  It  takes 
me  time  to  work  up ;  besides,  I  think  we  both  better 
enter  for  the  half  mile.  They  have  four  to  enter 
on  that  and  they  tell  me  Chester  Mendell  is  some 
runner,  so  we  don't  want  to  take  any  chances." 

"I'm  not  afraid  of  the  hundred-yard  dash  hurting 
me  in  the  least  for  the  eight-eighty,"  Billy  replied, 
confidently.  "It'll  just  give  me  a  good  start,  and  if 
you  say  so  it's  a  go." 

"All  right,  then,"  said  Robert,  decidedly;  "I'd 
sure  feel  a  lot  safer  if  you  were  in  the  race.  You 
know  Benson  is  splendid  at  times,  but  at  others  he 
simply  loses  himself.  I'll  leave  it  to  your  judgment 
to  enter  if  you  think  best." 

From  the  very  beginning  of  the  contests  the  re- 
sults had  showed  up  surprisingly  in  favor  of  the 
Erodelphians,  and  the  spirits  of  their  sympathizers 
and  supporters,  as  well  as  their  own,  kept  steadily 


"WE   ARE    BROTHERS"  71 

rising.  With  a  steadiness  and  determination  that 
astonished  their  opponents  they  won  victories  that 
surprised  even  themselves.  Archie  Brownell  did 
not  fail  them.  He  had  in  a  short  time  outdone  any 
previous  record  he  had  made  and  consequently  had 
outdone  the  others.  Elmer  Carter,  one  of  the  young- 
est of  the  Erodelphians,  soon  held  the  winning  rec- 
ord for  the  running  jump.  The  short  runs,  though 
closely  contested,  had  largely  resulted  favorably 
for  the  Erodelphians,  and  their  enthusiastic  rooters 
were  yelling  themselves  hoarse  in  wild  exultation. 
When  the  time  came  for  the  hundred-yard  dash  the 
Agatheans  had  made  few  points,  except  in  the  broad 
jumps  and  discus  throwing.  Both  sides  felt  that  this 
was  to  be  one  of  the  two  hardest  contested  races  on 
the  field.  The  other  was  the  half-mile  run.  Rumor 
had  reached  the  Erodelphians  that  it  was  upon  these 
two  the  Agatheans  especially  prided  themselves  in 
the  ability  of  their  runners,  and  believing  this  to  be 
true,  it  was  upon  these  two  that  Robert  and  Billy 
had  concentrated  their  own  best  efforts.  Billy  had 
no  hesitancy  when  the  time  came  for  entering.  Far 
from  being  concerned  over  it,  he  was  glad  of  the 
permission,  and  neither  he  nor  Robert  regretted 
their  decision. 

Brick  Morton  and  George  Larby,  the  Agathean 
runners  who  entered  this  race,  were  no  mean  op- 
ponents, as  Robert  and  Billy  were  soon  aware.  So  also 
was  Jess  Benson  aware  of  it,  and  the  discovery  soon 
caused  him  to  weaken.  Not  so  with  Billy,  who,  with 
head  erect,  chest  extended,  and  with  straightforward 


72  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

motion  shot  forward  like  a  swift,  unswerving 
arrow.  Down  the  lanes  they  came,  cheered  by  the 
hundreds  of  onlookers.  Larby  began  falling  behind 
a  trifle,  and  Brick  Morton's  face  was  beginning  to 
show  the  tensity  of  the  strain.  Billy  was  scarcely 
more  than  even  with  him  as  they  neared  the  goal, 
but  Robert  noted  with  a  glad  heart-throb  that  his 
face  gave  little  evidence  of  his  powerful  exertion; 
that  his  body  was  under  good  control,  and  that 
his  wind  was  perfect.  A  moment  more  and  he 
breasted  the  tape,  a  trifle  in  advance  of  his  rival,  with 
a  countenance  as  smiling  and  unstrained  as  though 
it  had  been  but  mere  play. 

The  shouts  were  deafening  for  a  few  minutes. 
There  had  been  but  an  instant's  difference  in  time 
in  which  the  two  had  reached  the  goal,  yet  those 
standing  nearest  had  seen  that  Billy  had  won  with 
very  perceptible  ease. 

From  that  moment  the  Agatheans  rapidly  dimin- 
ished in  courage  and  became  disheartened.  Here 
they  lost  and  there  they  lost,  until  when  the  time 
came  for  the  half-mile  run  only  a  few  minor  points 
had  been  gained.  Both  sides  squared  themselves 
now  for  the  last  trying  ordeal. 

"I'm  glad  we  both  worked  up  for  this,"  Robert 
whispered  to  Billy  as  the  two  were  making  them- 
selves ready.  "The  Agaths  have  felt  so  sure  of  this. 
They'll  have  four  in  the  race  and  I  know  that  Ches- 
ter Mendell  is  a  stunner.  Running  together  gives 
me  more  confidence,  anyhow.  We've  two  chances 
to  four  in  the  race." 


"WE   ARE    BROTHERS"  73 

"There  you're  right,"  assented  Billy,  "giving  a 
sidewise  kick  at  his  discarded  robe,  and  stretched 
himself  up  full  length.  "But  they've  been  too  dead 
sure  on  a  good  many  things.  'If  we  don't  beat  'em 
this  time  I'll  miss  my  guess.  Anyway  here's  for 
it,  and  luck  go  with  us." 

Loud  cheers  were  raised  for  each  contestant  from 
the  two  clusters  of  rooters,  followed  with  one  long 
shout  by  the  spectators  as  the  six  track  runners  took 
their  places  and  awaited  the  signal  to  start ;  then  an 
intense  hush  held  everyone  in  breathless  suspense 
as  they  dashed  off.  Robert's  tall,  muscular  figure, 
perfectly  trained  and  under  absolute  control,  shot 
forward  at  a  medium  rate  of  speed  which  was 
gradually  increased  with  every  stride.  Billy,  a  little 
shorter  and  slighter  in  build,  kept  close  by  his  side, 
their  rivals  abreast,  now  a  trifle  ahead. 

Half  of  the  distance  they  covered  with  the  six 
almost  in  line,  then  three  of  the  runners  began  lag- 
ging behind,  leaving  Chester  Mendell  and  Robert 
leading,  Billy  a  close  third.  Swifter  and  swifter  and 
with  unflagging  energy  the  three  pushed  forward, 
gaining  not  on  each  other,  but  gradually  gaining  on 
those  in  the  rear. 

"Some  sprinting,  I  call  that,"  commented  a  strong- 
looking,  heavy-set  young  man  among  the  bystand- 
ers, as  with  hands  thrust  into  his  pockets  he  watched 
the  race  with  an  air  of  deep  satisfaction.  "That 
'Mendell's  making  the  Eros  sweat,  anyhow,  and  I'm 
willing  to  bet  he's  got  'em  beat  already." 

"Not  on  your  life,"  piped  up  a  freckled-faced, 


74  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

tow-headed  youngster  squatted  below  him,  under 
the  very  edge  of  the  rope.  "Guess  you  never  saw 
that  Gibson  run  before  or  you'd  know  the  race  ain't 
done  jest  yit.  That  Mendell  won't  get  anywhere 
near  him." 

"Well,  how  do  you  happen  to  know  so  much  about 
it?"  inquired  the  first  speaker,  glancing  down  at  the 
youngster  with  a  touch  of  condescension  in  his 
demeanor. 

"Guess  I've  seen  him  try  it  a  few  times,"  chuckled 
the  lad.  "They're  neither  one  of  them  fellows  tor- 
toises, let  me  tell  you." 

"Maybe  so,  but  can't  you  see  that  MendelPs  ahead, 
and  it'll  take  some  pulling  to  pass  him?"  replied  the 
other. 

"You  won  in  the  discus  throwing,  didn't  you?" 
queried  the  boy  with  a  sidewise  upward  squint  at 
the  big  fellow  out  of  one  eye,  and  continued  as  the 
other  nodded:  "Well,  I  reckon  you  better  call  the 
crowd's  'tention  to  that,  for  that's  the  last  time 
your  side'll  win  here  to-day.  Jist  you  take  a  good 
look  agin  'fore  you  make  so  sure  of  it.  Mendell's  a 
little  ahead  now,  but  look  at  him.  Can't  you  see  he's 
beginning  to  get  his  breath  hard,  and  look  at  his 
face !  He's  gettin'  tired  already  and  won't  be  good 
for  much  of  a  spurt  at  the  finish,  hear  me — and  'nen 
look  at  the  other  fellers." 

The  winner  of  the  discus  throwing  leaned  for- 
ward over  the  rope  and  looked  intently.  Other  by- 
standers, hearing  the  small  boy's  remark,  looked 
also.  Those  who  had  taken  special  note  of  Billy's 


"WE    ARE    BROTHERS"  75 

face  before,  watched  it  again  to  find  it  still  showing 
the  same  remarkable  composure.  With  a  smile  he 
kept  but  a  step  in  the  rear  of  Robert,  one  eye  sharply 
on  the  movements  of  their  opponent.  Bystanders 
who  had  watched  more  than  one  track  race  won- 
dered and  waited  with  increasing  interest  to  see 
what  he  would  do. 

Two  thirds  of  the  way  was  covered,  and  still  the 
same  situation.  Nearer  and  nearer  they  came  to  the 
goal,  Robert  and  Chester  still  abreast,  Billy  a  step 
in  the  rear.  The  faces  of  the  two  leaders  are 
growing  more  tense,  the  other  still  smiling  and  un- 
ruffled. Now  the  end  is  but  a  short  distance. 

Suddenly  Robert  makes  a  quick  dash  forward  and 
speeds  ahead  of  his  opponent.  A  ringing  cheer  arises 
from  the  audience.  Another  one  follows  imme- 
diately as  they  note  Billy  has  moved  as  quickly,  and 
like  a  shadow  is  still  the  same  distance  from  his 
side.  Their  opponent  makes  an  effort  also  to 
quicken  his  pace,  but  weakens.  It  is  but  a  few 
yards  to  the  goal  now,  and  it  is  clear  which  side 
will  win  the  race.  At  that  moment  Billy  swings  up 
by  his  friend's  side  and  turns  toward  him :  "We've 
won,  Robert,  we've  won!"  he  cried  in  a  voice  that 
still  betokened  an  abundance  of  lung  power;  "the 
Eros  are  the  victors,"  and  they  breasted  the  tape 
together  fully  a  dozen  feet  ahead  of  their  leading 
opponent. 

A  shout  from  the  audience  went  up  as  seemingly 
would  rend  the  skies.  Navy  and  white  streamers 


76  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

mingled  in  utter  confusion,  as  the  loyal  rooters  tried 
to  make  themselves  heard  above  all  others: 

"Hoo-rah!    Hoo-rah! 

Victory  won! 
Hoo-rah!  hoo-rah! 
Oh,  what  fun! 
Ero-delphiun." 

And  "Nine  'rahs  for  Gibson  and  Clayton"  re- 
sounded over  the  campus. 

"Aw!  well,  we  don't  care/'  drawled  Guy  Benson 
with  a  disgusted  look,  as  he  picked  up  his  coat  and 
started  for  the  gym.  "Maybe  they  can  beat  us  with 
muscle,  but  we'll  show  'em  they  can't  do  it  when  it 
comes  to  brains." 

"Better  not  be  too  sure,  Benson;  you  may  get 
s'prised  there,  too,"  a  jubilant,  freckled-faced,  tow- 
headed  youngster  called  after  him. 

"Why  didn't  you  sprint  ahead  of  me,  Billy,  and 
come  out  full  winner  in  the  game?"  Robert  was  ask- 
ing Billy  after  the  exciting  scenes  of  the  day  were 
over  and  the  two  had  reached  the  latter's  room. 
"You  were  in  fine  condition  and  could  have  beaten 
as  easily  as  not." 

"What  was  the  use?"  responded  that  young  man, 
disposing  himself  comfortably  on  the  big  leather 
couch  and  flipping  the  corner  of  his  handkerchief  at 
an  unwary  fly  buzzing  stupidly  about  in  the  window. 
"You  were  doing  splendid,  and  it  was  fun  to  know 
that  unless  the  other  fellow  steamed  up  considerably 
more  than  he  was  likely  to,  we'd  win  the  race 
whether  or  no." 


"WE    ARE    BROTHERS"  77 

"But  I  wish  you'd  have  shown  'em  what  you  could 
do,"  Robert  said,  regretfully. 

"What  difference  does  it  make,  so  long  as  our 
side  beat,  which  one  it  was  that  made  first?"  reit- 
erated Billy,  successfully  hitting  his  mark  and  dis- 
posing of  the  unfortunate  fly  in  the  wastebasket.  "It 
looks  well  to  see  our  president  hold  the  honors,  and 
I  don't  want  'em." 

"Billy  Gibson!"  ejaculated  Robert,  with  empha- 
sis. "You  know  I  don't  want  any  honors  unless  I 
win  'em.  If  you  don't  make  me  a  solemn  promise 
that  you'll  do  your  best  against  me  next  time,  I'll 
never  enter  a  race  with  you  again." 

"Nonsense!"  Billy  scoffed,  shrugging  his  shoul- 
ders, "there's  nothing  to  it,  I  tell  you.  Maybe  I 
could  have  beaten  and  maybe  I  couldn't.  Anyhow 
it  wasn't  worth  while  trying.  Quit  your  kicking. 
Didn't  we  win  the  race,  and  win  together? — and — 
We  are  brothers.'  " 

"Well,  that's  what  I  call  a  brother  to  a  finish," 
Robert  declared  heartily,  "and  you  won't  find  an- 
other instance  like  it  in  seventeen  States." 

"Do  ring  off.  I'm  ready  for  a  nap,"  Billy  com- 
manded, stretching  himself  into  a  more  comfortable 
position  and  pulling  his  favorite  cushion  over  his 
ears  to  shut  off  further  conversation.  "It's  been  a 
great  day." 


78  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

CHAPTER  8 

A    LETTER    OF    INTRODUCTION 

r~lTTHE  FEW  remaining  days  of  soft,  hazy  Octo- 
ber weather  drifted  by,  followed  by  a  blustery 
and  cold  November;  December  was  ushered 
in,  and  the  holiday  time  drew  near. 

For  a  week  or  two  after  the  field  meet  the  Ero- 
delphians  and  Agatheans  indulged  in  a  great  deal  of 
talk  with  reference  to  an  oratory  contest,  or  debate, 
finally  concluding  that  it  would  be  well  to  wait  until 
the  football  season  was  over.  Later,  on  account  of 
the  heavy  work  which  was  being  carried  by  several 
of  the  students  from  each  society,  upon  whom  they 
were  mainly  dependent,  it  was  decided  best  to  defer 
the  matter  until  the  holidays  were  past  and  the 
work  of  the  first  semester  finished.  This  decision 
brought  much  relief  to  Robert,  who  was  finding  it 
a  heavy  strain  to  keep  his  regular  grades  up  to  the 
very  high  standard  he  had  set  for  himself,  and  in 
addition  carry  the  amount  of  work  and  responsibility 
he  felt  obliged  to  do  in  the  society  in  helping  make 
it  a  success,  to  say  nothing  of  the  hours  he  was  re- 
quired to  be  in  the  restaurant  kitchen  each  week  in 
order  to  enable  him  to  meet  expenses. 

"Going  home  next  week?'*  Billy  inquired  one  aft- 
ernoon, lazily  sauntering  into  Robert's  "skyscraper/' 
as  he  was  pleased  to  term  his  friend's  small  apart- 
ment under  the  eaves. 


A  LETTER  OF  INTRODUCTION  79 

Robert,  deep  in  the  intricacies  of  trigonometry, 
looked  up  at  first  half  absently,  then  threw  aside 
textbook  and  paper,  glad  for  a  little  diversion,  since 
he  had  strenuously  applied  himself  to  his  studies 
for  several  hours. 

"Wish  I  could,  Gibson,"  he  replied,  pushing  a  low 
stool  forward  for  him  to  occupy.  "Like  mighty  well 
to  see  the  folks  at  home,  I'll  tell  you;  but  it's  a 
matter  of  dollars  and  cents,  you  know,  and  I've  got 
the  promise  of  a  splendid  job  of  work  here  during  the 
holidays,  so  guess  I'll  have  to  take  it  and  forego  all 
coveted  pleasures  for  the  time  being.  What  are  you 
going  to  do?  Make  a  trip  to  Dakota?" 

"Not  I.  Don't  catch  me  going  home  this  time  of 
year ;  might  get  snowed  in  like  we  were  last  winter 
for  a  while,  and  I  wouldn't  miss  out  on  a  week  of  col- 
lege life  for  a  team  of  horses.  -Seems  like  I've  just 
begun  to  live  since  I  came  here  and  got  fairly  into 
things." 

"Here,  too,"  Robert  agreed,  heartily.  "The  very 
sight  of  this  old  hill  whenever  I  come  back  from 
town  is  like  an  inspiration.  I'm  going  to  make  a 
desperate  effort  to  get  through  a  four-year  course, 
though  it'll  doubtless  be  in  piecemeal  fashion,  and 
I'll  have  to  deny  myself  lots  of  things  and  most  of 
the  little  pleasures  on  the  side  that  others  enjoy." 

"It's  a  confounded  shame  to  have  to  skimp  along 
that  way  all  the  time,"  Billy  declared,  leaning  back 
against  the  foot  of  Robert's  narrow  bedstead  and 
clasping  both  hands  about  one  knee.  "It's  a  pity 
you  haven't  a  good  Dakota  farm  and  its  products  to 


80  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

fall  back  on.  It  gives  a  fellow  a  mighty  comfort- 
able feeling  to  know  it's  always  there  ready  and 
waiting  to  yield  its  increase  and  help  one  along  in 
the  world.  Our  wheat  field  made  an  average  of  thirty- 
five  bushels  to  the  acre  this  year ;  we  had  in  several 
hundred  acres,  and  dad  writes  me  in  a  letter  I  got 
this  morning  that  the  market  is  good.  Then  there's 
the  stock,  of  course,  besides." 

"It  sure  sounds  great,"  Robert  returned  with  a 
half  sigh.  "We've  always  had  so  little  to  get  along 
with  that  I'd  like  to  realize  just  for  once,  at  least, 
how  it  would  feel  to  be  placed  in  such  circum- 
stances— have  all  I  needed  and  plenty  for  extras." 

"Well,  I  haven't  forgotten  altogether  how  it  feels 
to  be  in  straitened  circumstances  myself,"  said  the 
other.  "It  hasn't  been  so  many  years  since  our 
family  was  down  pretty  well  towards  the  last  dol- 
lar. Then  dad  took  a  notion  to  go  north  and  take 
up  a  homestead.  Pioneering  wasn't  any  fun,  let  me 
tell  you,  and  we  experienced  some  pretty  thin  living 
for  a  while,  but  we  chanced  to  be  among  the  lucky 
ones  where  everything  turned  out  quite  decently, 
and  the  last  two  or  three  years  it  has  been  compara- 
tively easy  sailing." 

"And  still  you're  not  going  home  for  Christmas?" 
queried  Robert.  "Now  there's  where  I'd  spend  some 
money  if  I  were  in  your  shoes.  As  good  as  Clifton 
City  looks  to  me  while  college  is  on,  home  looks 
better  this  time  of  year,  and  this  will  be  my  first 
Christmas  away.  I  suppose  the  reason  it  looks  so 
particularly  inviting  to  me  just  now  is  because  father 


A   LETTER   OF   INTRODUCTION  81 

is  at  home,  and  I  can't  remember  many  holidays 
when  he  was.  But  it's  out  of  the  question,  and  I 
may  as  well  not  think  about  it." 

"I've  half  a  notion  to  run  over  to  Banforth  my- 
self," Billy  announced  quite  carelessly,  as  though  the 
idea  were  rather  a  new  one,  and  his  plans  yet  indefi- 
nite. "Got  a  half  uncle  and  a  cousin  or  two  living  near 
there  somewhere  that  might  like  to  see  a  fellow  if 
he'd  treat  'em  right,"  he  added  by  way  of  explana- 
tion, as  he  tipped  his  stool  back  to  a  dangerous  angle. 

"That's  dandy.  Say,  but  you  make  me  want  to 
go  worse  than  ever.  We'd  have  a  magnificent  time, 
and  I  could  make  you  acquainted  with  a  lot  of  the 
folks." 

"Let  the  job  go  and  come  on  then.  You  won't  miss 
the  money  ten  years  from  now,  and  you'll  make  it 
through  somehow.  It  won't  cost  more'n  five  dollars, 
will  it?" 

"No — well,  the  railroad  fare  won't,  but  there's 
always  other  things  one  doesn't  count  on,  and  five 
dollars  look  like  a  gold  mine  to  me  right  now;  be- 
sides, it  isn't  so  much  the  car  fare,  as  it  is  the  amount 
I  can  make  during  the  two  weeks,  and  I  have  but 
little  left  for  my  next  term's  expenses — not  much 
more  than  half  the  amount  required  for  my  tuition, 
to  say  nothing  of  other  things  needed." 

"I'll  loan  it  to  you  and  you  can  pay  it  back  next 
year  or  the  year  after.  If  you  weren't  so  beastly 
independent  I'd  offer  it  to  you  on  easier  terms,  but  I 
know  better." 

Robert  hesitated.    How  tempting  it  looked !    How 
VS— 6 


82  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

much  he  had  wanted  to  go  he  had  not  realized  till 
this  moment  when  Billy  had  made  known  his  inten- 
tions! So  seldom  in  his  life  had  his  family  been 
at  home  together  at  Christmas  time,  and  with  Billy 
along  things  would  be  especially  jolly. 

"It  does  seem  like  when  a  fellow  is  within  a 
hundred  miles  of  home  that  he  ought  to  be  forgiven 
for  indulging  himself  in  a  little  pleasure  at  this  sea- 
son," he  said,  slowly.  "It's  'most  more  than  I  can 
forego.  But  I  must  not,"  he  added  with  quick  de- 
cision. "Thanks  to  you  just  the  same,  Gibson.  I 
don't  think  I'd  better.  I'll  stay  with  the  job  while 
I  have  one.  At  the  best  I'll  have  to  borrow  some 
money  before  the  next  semester  closes,  and  if  I  do 
I'll  know  whom  to  fall  back  on  for  a  little  loan  to 
pull  me  through." 

Billy  did  not  look  as  disappointed  as  he  might  have 
done,  nor  in  fact  as  he  usually  did  when  Robert  re- 
fused to  go  with  him  on  some  pleasure  excursion. 
He  had  arisen  from  the  low  seat,  and  stood  now  with 
hands  thrust  into  his  pockets,  gazing  somewhat 
absently  out  of  the  window  at  the  blue,  vapor-like 
smoke  that  emerged  from  one  of  the  tall  factory 
chimneys,  and  whistling  betimes  a  broken  snatch  of 
college  song. 

"Well,  when  Robert  says  he  won't,  he  won't,  and 
that's  the  end  on't,  I  suppose,"  he  said  presently. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I  want  you  to  do,  though/'  Rob- 
ert declared,  earnestly.  "I  want  you  to  go  to  our 
place  whenever  you're  in  town  and  make  yourself  at 
home.  The  folks  will  be  glad  to  see  you,  and  will 


A  LETTER  OF  INTRODUCTION  83 

make  it  as  pleasant  for  you  as  they  can.  And  say 
— Fll  write  Ned  Warren  a  letter  and  tell  him  to 
look  after  you  a  bit  and  see  that  you  get  acquainted. 
Ned's  a  lot  younger  than  you,  but  he's  all  right  and 
dandy  good  company,  and  you'll  like  him;  and  of 
course  you're  already  acquainted  with  Miss  Janey." 

Billy  was  inclined  to  believe  he  was.  He  refrained, 
however,  from  making  any  reference  to  this  state- 
ment, as  he  replied :  "That'll  be  good  of  you,  Clay- 
ton. I'll  sure  be  glad  to  meet  your  father  again, 
get  acquainted  with  the  rest  of  your  folks,  and  have 
the  letter  of  introduction  to  your  friend.  I'm  not 
much  acquainted  with  my  uncle,  not  having  met  him 
since  I  was  a  small  boy,  and  a  fellow's  relatives 
are  sometimes  uncertain  in  their  attentions." 

Accordingly  Robert  wrote  the  letter  that  evening 
to  Ned,  requesting  him  to  take  his  place  in  enter- 
taining his  friend  and  helping  to  make  his  visit  to 
Banforth  a  pleasant  one.  It  was  late  when  he  fin- 
ished, the  day  had  been  a  long  and  wearisome  one, 
and  a  tired  sigh  slipped  out  as  he  folded  the  sheets 
and  put  them  in  the  envelope.  "Billy's  a  lucky  dog," 
he  murmured,  leaning  back  in  his  chair  and  closing 
his  eyes.  "Whilikens !  But  it's  hard  to  stay  behind 
and  work  when  you  know  what  a  good  time  would 
await  you  if  you  went.  But  I  do  wonder  why  he's 
taken  such  a  sudden  notion  to  visit  that  uncle  with 
whom  he  has  a  bare  acquaintance.  He  has  never 
spoken  of  him  to  me  before,  and  he  has  relatives  a 
short  distance  southeast  of  here  that  he  seems  to 
know  quite  well.  I've  heard  him  speak  of  them 
several  times." 


84  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

Nevertheless,  Billy  seemed  quite  bent  on  making 
the  acquaintance  of  the  half  uncle,  and  took  a  very 
cheerful  departure  in  that  direction  the  following 
week.  Fortune  favored  him,  for  though  unapprised 
of  the  train  on  which  his  nephew  would  arrive,  the 
uncle  had  chanced  to  drive  with  his  auto  to  bring 
a  small  amount  of  produce  for  the  market  and  was 
busy  loading  it  upon  a  near-by  truck  when  Billy 
stepped  from  the  train  to  the  depot  platform.  A 
good-natured,  rough-and-ready  sort  of  a  man  the 
elderly  Mr.  Gibson  appeared  to  be,  and  as  they  spun 
along  the  smooth  road  in  the  well-built,  serviceable 
little  car  toward  the  small,  but  well-stocked,  well- 
cared-for  farm  some  eight  or  nine  miles  southwest 
of  Banforth,  Billy  learned  that  his  cousins  of  this 
family  were  grown  and  settled  on  farms  of  their 
own,  three  in  a  distant  State,  the  other  in  an  adjoin- 
ing county,  and  the  old  folks  were  heartily  glad  to 
have  a  young  person  come  in  and  bring  again  a 
little  of  the  old-time  life  and  brightness  to  the  lonely 
farmhouse. 

The  following  day  the  young  man  rode  back  to 
Banforth  on  a  dapper  little  saddle  horse  his  uncle 
had  told  him  was  at  his  disposal,  and  without  the 
slightest  difficulty  found  his  way  to  the  little  brown 
cottage.  It  will  hardly  be  presuming  too  much  to 
say  that  he  would,  in  all  probability,  have  found  the 
place  and  Ned  without  Robert's  letter  of  introduc- 
tion ;  for  tucked  away  in  one  corner  of  his  suit  case 
was  an  interesting  little  bundle  of  letters,  tied  to- 
gether with  a  sentimental  bit  of  pink  ribbon, 


A  LETTER  OF  INTRODUCTION  85 

all  addressed  in  the  small,  feminine  handwriting, 
and  postmarked  "Banforth."  This  fact  he  had 
somehow  neglected  to  mention  to  any  of  his  friends, 
even  to  Robert. 


86  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

CHAPTER  9 

AN  ENEMY   IN  CAMP 

IT'S  going  to  be  a  perfectly  grand  Christmas!" 
Madeline  Warren  flattened  the  end  of  her  dainty 
nose  against  the  frosty  pane  as  she  peered  out  of 
the  front  sitting  room  window  at  the  few  scatter- 
ing snowflakes  drifting  softly  and  lazily  downward. 
It  was  the  afternoon  of  the  24th  of  December  and  a 
slight  lull  had  come  in  the  hurry  of  preparations  for 
the  morrow  in  the  busy  household. 

"Immensely  splendid!"  exclaimed  Lu,  looking 
up  from  her  low  rocker  where  she  was  resting  and 
mending  one  of  Ned's  shirts.  "Fact  is,  I  can't  think 
of  adjectives  big  enough  to  express  my  feelings 
about  it.  But  snow  or  no  snow,  it  seems  like  a  real 
Christmas  with  all  of  us  together  again,  and  nothing 
but  the  memory  of  it  to  remind  us  of  our  loneliness 
of  last  year's  Christmastide  in  Janey's  absence,  and 
the  unpleasant  events  that  followed  close  upon  its 
heels  in  Madeline's  illness." 

"Wonder  how  it  is  in  Dakota  now,"  said  Janey 
musingly,  pausing  in  the  midst  of  her  work  of  sort- 
ing over  a  bundle  of  school  papers  that  had  not  yet 
been  graded.  "It  almost  gives  me  that  old  home- 
sick feeling  I  had  then,  to  see  the  snow  falling.  What 
a  long  winter  it  was,  and  yet  with  all  that  it  doesn't 
seem  possible  that  a  year  has  passed  since  last 
Christmas.  A  year  ago  to-night,  too,  I  listened  for 


AN   ENEMY   IN   CAMP  87 

the  first  time  to  a  Latter  Day  Saint  sermon.  Drove 
over  to  the  schoolhouse  in  the  sleigh  with  the  Far- 
landers.  A  beautiful  night  it  was." 

"And  we  had  the  Claytons  here  to  eat  Christ- 
mas dinner  with  us  one  year  ago  to-morrow,"  said 
Ned,  from  the  corner  where  he  sat  fashioning  some 
candle  holders  for  the  Christmas  tree  out  of  a  few 
scraps  of  wire.  "It's  a  downright  shame  Robert 
can't  come  home.  He  tells  me  in  his  letter  that  he 
sends  his  friend,  Mr.  Gibson,  to  take  his  place — as 
if  anybody  could  take  Robert's  place!"  and  Ned 
twisted  the  wire  into  position  with  unnecessary  ve- 
hemence. 

"There's  one  thing  about  Dakota,"  Janey  ob- 
served, wisely  indifferent  to  Ned's  last  remark, 
"that's  ahead  of  this  country,  and  that's  the  sleigh- 
ing. It  is  simply  superb  nearly  all  winter.  Here,  if 
we  have  a  week's  good  sleighing  in  the  course  of 
the  winter  we  think  ourselves  fortunate.  I  had  more 
sleigh  rides  last  winter  than  I've  bad  in  all  the  rest 
of  my  life.  Wouldn't  mind  being  there  long  enough 
to  take  one  now  if  I  could  get  right  back  again." 

"Thanks  all  due  to  the  weather  and  snow — none 
whatever  to  a  young  ranchman  and  his  thorough- 
breds and  cutter,"  remarked  Lu,  teasingly.  "Moon- 
light sleigh  rides  have  a  magical  charm  all  their 
own.  How  about  it,  sister?" 

"Well,  of  course  I  couldn't  have  had  the  rides  un- 
less some  one  had  furnished  the  team  and  sleigh," 
Janey  parried,  "but,"  glancing  out  of  the  window 
and  skillfully  turning  the  subject  again,  "I'm  equally 


88  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

sure  I'd  have  had  none  if  there  had  been  no  more 
snow  than  usually  falls  here,  nor  than  is  likely  to 
come  this  evening.  This  is  but  a  mere  flurry.  See, 
the  sky  is  getting  lighter  and  the  clouds  are  break- 
ing already.  Unless  it  turns  much  colder,  this  little 
dab  will  be  melted,  and  to-morrow  the  roads  will 
be  dry  and  brown  as  ever." 

"Well,  since  you  are  safely  here  with  us,  I,  for 
my  part,  have  little  concern  about  the  weather  here 
or  anywhere  else,"  Lu  rejoined.  "And  I'm  glad  of 
another  thing,"  she  continued.  "Madeline  hasn't 
even  made  the  first  sneeze  toward  a  cold  like  she 
started  in  with  last  year  about  this  time,  and  is  a 
long  ways  from  being  the  counterpart  of  the  pale 
little  spook  we  tucked  into  bed  a  month  or  so  later — 
a  bad  case  of  pneumonia.  Remedies?  As  I  recall 
we  dosed  her  with  everything  under  the  sun  that 
people  suggested — warranted  sure  cure  for  all  cases 
— and  as  for  poultices,  it's  a  long  list;  haven't  for- 
gotten them  all  yet.  Let  me  see,  mustard  and  lard 
head  it — one  third  mustard,  two  thirds  lard  (if  I 
made  one  I  made  a  dozen) ;  flaxseed  carefully  pre- 
pared; onion  poultice,  onions  fried  to  a  crisp  and 
strong  enough  to  make  you  weep  in  the  next  room. 
Flannel  cloths  wrung  out  of  a  mixture  of  hot  water 
and  vinegar  (half  a  pint  of  vinegar  to  a  quart  of 
water) ,  the  solution  hot  enough  to  scald  your  hands 
red  as  a  lobster,  likewise  your  patient;  hot  salt 
bags,  and  even  two  sizzling  pancakes  came  in  for 
their  share  of  duty  in  our  desperate  attempts  to  re- 
store lungs  to  good  working  order  and  our  little 
sister  to  normal  health." 


AN   ENEMY  IN   CAMP  89 

"For  mercy's  sake,  Lu,"  ejaculated  Janey,  while 
they  all  laughed  at  her  ludicrous  recital,  "it's  a  won- 
der the  poor  child  ever  recovered  at  all  or  else  wasn't 
burned  to  a  blister." 

"She  was  slightly  blistered,"  Lu  returned,  thread- 
ing her  needle  and  throwing  an  indifferent  glance 
at  the  small  figure  by  the  window. 

"Slightly!"  echoed  Madeline,  whirling  suddenly 
around.  "How  dare  you  say  slightly,  Lu  Warren?  I 
guess  you'd  have  thought  you  were  about  dead  if 
you'd  been  in  my  place.  I  just  couldn't  hardly  move, 
and  I  was  nearly  roasted  all  the  time." 

"But  the  blisters  peejed  off  and  in  due  time  a 
new  skin  grew  beautifully,"  Lu  pursued  with  baffling 
calmness,  "and  the  trouble  was  nicely  overcome.  The 
great  difficulty  about  the  matter  since  has  been  that 
we  haven't  known  which  remedy  to  credit  with  the 
cure.  Each  volunteer  contributor  vows  it  was  his 
or  her  own  special  pet  one  that  did  the  work,  so  there 
you  are.  I  think  if  I  had  the  thing  to  do  over  again 
I'd  just  mix  the  whole  mess  up  into  one  grand  plas- 
ter cast  and  paste  her  up  in  it." 

"Lu,  Lu!  How  you  do  talk!"  exclaimed  her  mother, 
with  a  shocked  expression  on  her  serious  face. 

"A  wee  bit  foolishly  perhaps,  mother,  as  your 
second  daughter  is  accustomed  to  doing  in  her  rattle- 
brained fashion ;  but,  after  all,  now  wouldn't  that  be 
about  as  sensible?  Well,  no  matter,  it's  enough  to 
know  that  one  (or  all  of  'em)  was  efficacious,  and 
Madeline  is  with  us  still  and  looks  like  a  fresh-bloom- 
ing rose  in  June  time." 


90  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

"Enough,  indeed!"  sighed  the  mother  gratefully, 
looking  fondly  at  the  sprightly  little  form  which  had 
perched  itself  again  by  the  window,  and  noting  with 
motherly  gratitude  the  bright  eyes  and  pink  cheeks. 

"So  I  say/'  rejoined  Lu,  "and  what  matter  to  us 
whether  onions  or  pancakes  did  it,  so  long  as " 

"Who  can  that  be?"  interrupted  Madeline,  spring- 
ing down  once  more  in  her  excitement.  "A  stranger 
here,  I  know,  and  he's  turning  in  at  our  gate !" 

"Maybe  it's  Mr.  Gibson,"  said  Ned,  hastily  gath- 
ering his  bits  of  wire  and  improvised  holders  into  a 
paper  with  one  sweep  and  hurrying  to  the  window. 
"Whew!"  he  added,  as  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  well- 
dressed,  immaculately  groomed  young  man  coming 
up  the  walk;  "he's  mighty  spruce  looking.  Is  that 
who  he  is,  Janey?  You  know  him,  don't  you?" 

But  the  ink  bottle  on  Janey's  table  had  had  a  very 
narrow  escape  from  being  tipped  over  upon  the 
floor,  and  that  young  lady  was  too  busy  in  her 
search  for  a  recreant  pen  to  answer  immediately, 
two  incidents  which  the  observing  Lu  did  not  fail 
to  notice,  but  who  for  the  time  kept  her  own  counsel 
as  she  whispered  under  her  breath,  "Evidently  she 
does,"  then  beat  a  hasty  retreat  to  the  kitchen,  leav- 
ing the  rest  of  the  family  to  do  the  honors  of  the 
occasion.  Thither  Madeline  followed  a  little  later, 
having  remained  only  long  enough  to  satisfy  her 
curiosity. 

"He's  mighty  good  looking."  She  volunteered  the 
information  in  a  loud  whisper  at  her  sister's  ear, 
who,  preparatory  to  building  a  fire  in  the  kitchen 


AN   ENEMY   IN   CAMP  91 

stove,  was  rattling  the  stove  shaker  as  though  her 
life  depended  upon  it.  It  was  characteristic  of  the 
girl  that  the  more  disturbed  her  mind,  the  harder 
she  worked.  "And  say,  he's  dressed  up  awfully 
nice,"  Madeline  added,  when  there  was  a  sufficient 
pause  between  the  activities  of  the  stove  shaker  to 
give  her  the  opportunity.  "I  like  him." 

"I  don't,"  retorted  Lu  sharply,  giving  the  grate  a 
final  turn  and  dropping  the  shaker  on  the  floor  with 
a  thump.  "He's  nothing  but  a — a  snob." 

"Oh,  no,  he  isn't  either,  Lu.  He's  nice  dressed  and 
all  that,  but  he's  not  what  Ned  calls  the  'sporty'  kind. 
Not  a  bit.  He's  just — just  jollylike.  You  haven't 
seen  him  yet  and  you  don't  know." 

"I  know  all  I  want  to,"  replied  the  sister,  removing 
the  stove  lids  from  the  top  in  a  reckless  manner, 
"and  I  simply  won't  like  him.  I  just  won't,  so 
there." 

"But,  Lu,"  entreated  the  little  sister,  utterly  at  a 
loss  to  understand  such  strange  behavior.  "You 
oughtn't  to  feel  that  way  about  anybody.  We  ought 
to  like  everybody.  Besides,  he's  come  to  see  Ned 
and  Janey,  and  he's  Robert's  friend." 

"Bah!  if  he  is,  all  I've  got  to  say  is  Robert's  a 
silly.  He's  no  friend  of  mine  or  ever  will  be." 

"Why,  Lu,  what  is  the  matter?"  Madeline's  wide, 
innocent  eyes  searched  her  sister's  face  with  a  trou- 
bled look.  "How  do  you  know  you  don't  like  him 
when  you  haven't  seen  him?" 

But  without  reply  the  girl  vanished  from  the 


92  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

kitchen  and  was  off  to  the  woodshed  to  get  a  basket 
of  kindlings. 

"Robert's  a  perfect  numskull,"  muttered  the  per- 
turbed girl,  as  she  broke  an  old  shingle  into  fine 
pieces.  "Can't  he  see  with  half  an  eye  that  this  fel- 
low means  business?  If  Janey  should  think  about 
getting  married  I  want  Robert  to  be  the  one.  But 
he  doesn't  deserve  her  if  he  hasn't  enough  sense  to 
look  out  for  himself/' 

Supper  preparations  were  well  under  way  when 
Janey  appeared  at  the  kitchen  door.  "Come  in,  Lu," 
she  called;  "you  can  leave  things  for  a  moment, 
can't  you?  Mr.  Gibson  has  met  all  the  others  and  is 
insisting  on  seeing  Lu." 

"Can't  leave  the  supper  now,"  retorted  Lu,  shortly. 
"The  potatoes  would  be  sure  to  burn,  and  the  meat 
needs  attention.  He  can  wait." 

"Let  Madeline  watch  them  a  moment.  I  want  you 
to  come  in,"  coaxed  Janey. 

"I  won't,"  replied  Lu,  almost  rudely,  and  with  evi- 
dent irritation,  as  she  whisked  into  the  pantry  with 
a  fresh  pie  from  the  oven. 

The  older  sister's  forehead  puckered  into  a  per- 
plexed expression.  "Poor  Lu,"  she  thought,  "she's 
been  working  too  hard  lately  and  is  all  out  of  sorts. 
She  did  a  lot  of  baking  this  morning.  I  shouldn't 
have  left  her  with  the  supper  to  get  to-night,  but  she 
won't  let  me  interfere  now.  I'll  relieve  her  of  the 
burden  of  the  Christmas  dinner  to-morrow  and  let 
her  have  a  real  holiday.  She  always  carries  too 
much." 


AN   ENEMY  IN   CAMP  93 

A  very  short  while  after,  the  supper  was  ready, 
and  a  flushed  little  cook  with  an  antagonistic  look 
in  her  eye  stood  near  the  table  as  the  family  and 
their  guest  came  in.  Billy  did  not  fail  to  sense  on 
the  instant  the  independent  poise  of  her  head,  the 
challenge  in  her  eyes,  nor,  in  fact,  the  whole  atti- 
tude so  determinedly  expressive  of  aloofness;  for 
something  of  that  shrewd,  flashlike  comprehension 
that  was  so  much  a  part  of  his  father's  make-up,  also 
belonged  to  the  young  man.  "Some  one  to  reckon 
with  here,"  he  thought,  with  well-disguised  amuse- 
ment, "and  one  little  maiden  must  be  made  to  change 
her  opinion  of  me  before  it  is  all  smooth  sailing.  See, 
the  porcupine  quills  are  fairly  bristling." 

Outwardly  he  was  responding  to  Janey's  introduc- 
tion with  charming  good  humor:  "And  this  is  our 
Lu.  I've  been  hearing  about  her  and  been  given  a 
regular  catalogue  of  her  virtues  and  capabilities,  first 
from  Miss  Janey  last  winter,  and  this  fall  from 
Robert,  who  tantalizingly  regales  me  occasionally 
when  I'm  hungry  for  home  cooking  with  a  list  of  the 
tasty  dishes  Lu  concocts.  I've  so  much  faith  in  his 
good  judgment  that  I'm  not  at  all  averse  to  trying 
them  myself." 

Now  what  little  maid  with  a  housewifely  turn 
could  withstand  so  disarming  a  speech  as  that?  Es- 
pecially when  it  came  from  the  lips  of  a  frank- 
faced  young  man  whose  very  countenance  bespoke 
the  fact  that  it  rarely  harbored  ill  will  towards  any- 
one. The  phrase,  "our  Lu,"  rankled  a  little,  but  the 
thought  of  Robert's  praise  almost  offset  that.  It 


94  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

nearly  took  her  breath  to  think  that  Robert  had 
ever  talked  to  others  of  her  like  this.  The  bristles 
lowered  a  little  then,  and  in  spite  of  her  efforts  and 
determination  to  push  them  up  again  and  remain 
obdurate,  very  much  to  her  own  disgust  and  dis- 
may as  the  meal  progressed,  Billy's  diplomacy  and 
tact  were  scoring  a  victory.  And  if  he  needed  more 
than  that  evening's  experience  to  place  him  in  her 
favor,  it  was  supplemented  the  following  morning, 
a  glorious,  sunshiny  Christmas  Day,  when  the  young 
man  drove  up  to  the  gate  in  his  uncle's  motor  car 
with  Mamie  Clayton,  and  insisted  on  the  entire 
family,  even  to  mother  and  Madeline,  piling  in  for 
a  long,  delightful  ride  over  the  brown  hills.  It  was 
characteristic  of  Billy  to  leave  no  one  out  of  a  good 
time.  There  were  never  too  many  around  to  suit 
lis  fancy,  and  he  was  always  ready  to  dispense  of 
the  abundance  of  his  substance  as  freely  as  he  did 
of  his  good  nature. 

When  the  merry  crowd  came  back  from  the  long 
ride  in  high  spirits,  and  when  Lu  flitted  upstairs  to 
change  her  dress,  she  was  obliged  to  grudgingly  ad- 
mit to  herself  as  she  donned  the  big  kitchen  apron, 
"He's  not  so  bad,  after  all.  If  it  only  wasn't  for 
Robert ;  he  likes  Janey,  I  know,  and  how  in  the  world 
matters  will  ever  straighten  out  is  more  than  I  can 
tell.  They're  going  to  get  terribly  crisscrossed,  I'm 
afraid." 

It  would  have  been  a  more  difficult  matter  to  dis- 
cover and  analyze  Janey's  thoughts  than  Lu's  at 
that  moment,  as  she  paused  on  the  porch  step  to  an- 


AN    ENEMY   IN   CAMP  95 

swer  some  light  remark  the  young  man  called  back  to 
her  as  he  sprang  into  the  machine. 

Glancing  up  again  with  a  quick  smile  as  he  drove 
away,  he  lifted  his  cap  and  she  waved  her  hand 
slightly  in  acknowledgment,  but  the  remark  vouch- 
safed to  her  mother  as  she  came  into  the  house  and 
hung  up  her  wraps  might  have  been  interpreted 
in  a  dozen  different  ways: 

"I  wish  you  could  have  seen  Mr.  Gibson  last 
year,  mother,  out  on  the  ranch.  You  could  hardly 
imagine  the  change.  It's  wonderful  the  difference 
good  clothes  and  a  few  months  of  school  with  its  so- 
cial environments  will  make  in  a  young  man." 


96  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

CHAPTER   10 
A  SUDDEN  CHANGE  OF  TEMPERATURE 

SUCH  beastly  weather  as  you  have  down  here  in 
these  States.  You  never  know  what  it's  going 
to  do  from  one  day  to  another.  Never  snow 
enough  for  sleighing,  too  warm  for  the  ice  to  freeze 
on  the  lake  hard  enough  for  skating,  and  the  roads 
only  half  fit  for  autoing,"  grumbled  Billy  one  morn- 
ing about  the  middle  of  the  holiday  week,  when  low- 
ering clouds  threatened  rain  and  the  roughness  of 
the  roads  made  it  seem  inadvisable  for  car  service. 
"Now,  if  we  were  up  in  Dakota  we'd  know  just 
about  what  we  could  depend  on — good  sleighing 
there  all  winter." 

"Except/*  contradicted  Janey  with  a  bit  of  ma- 
licious fun  in  her  voice,  "except  when  people  get 
snowbound  and  must  stay  indoors  for  days,  and  are 
obliged  to  tunnel  to  the  barn  and  granaries  so  they 
can  feed  the  stock,  and  also  get  out  and  shovel  the 
roads." 

The  two  were  alone  together  in  the  sitting  room, 
standing  by  the  west  window  looking  out  at  the 
clouds  and  trying  to  decide  whether  it  were  advis- 
able to  undertake  a  car  ride  or  not. 

"Oh,  well,  there  are  exceptions/'  admitted  Billy, 
reluctantly,  "but  such  a  storm  as  we  had  while  you 
were  up  there  with  us  last  winter  doesn't  occur  once 
in  ten  years.  Honest  now." 


1 


"He,  however,  had  turned  on  the  instant,  and  with  body 
bent  forward  and  long,  firm  strokes,  was  speeding  away  like 
the  wind  toward  the  scene  of  danger."  (See  page  109.) 


A  SUDDEN  CHANGE  OF  TEMPERATURE   97 

"Then  I  most  surely  hit  the  tenth  year,"  laughed 
the  girl,  "and  I  don't  think  I'd  ever  want  to  risk  it 
again,  even  for  one  of  those  jolly  sleigh  rides  we  had 
last  winter.  I'd  be  afraid  it  wouldn't  wait  another 
decade." 

"Well,  I'm  sure  of  one  thing,  at  least,  you  happened 
in  the  right  year,  Janey,  whatever  the  number  may 
be,"  the  young  man  declared  with  such  a  sudden 
plunge  into  seriousness  that  the  girl  was  startled. 
"You  may  not  realize  it,  but  I  want  to  tell  you  right 
now  that  your  coming  into  our  neighborhood  last 
winter  and  your  stay  at  our  house  during  the  time  we 
were  snowbound  has  changed  the  whole  course  of 
my  life.  I  dimly  felt  some  kind  of  an  awakening  in 
those  weeks  when  Elder  Clayton  preached  in  our 
little  schoolhouse — there  came  a  new  sense  of  duty, 
a  weight  of  responsibility,  a  desire  for  better  serv- 
ice of  some  kind  (call  it  what  you  will,  I  have  no 
words  to  express  just  what  the  desire  may  have 
been  in  its  first  inception),  but  I  had  never  felt  it 
more  strongly  than  the  day  of  the  blizzard  when  dad 
and  I  started  out  to  follow  the  excited  dog  and  we 
found  you  struggling  toward  us  through  the  storm 
with  all  those  school  children.  I  think  I  never  wit- 
nessed such  heroic  courage " 

"Oh,  do  stop,"  interrupted  the  girl.  "I've  heard 
about  that  so  many  times  from  different  ones,  I  never 
want  to  hear  of  it  again.  You  or  anyone  else  would 
have  done  the  same  thing,  only  ten  times  better.  As 
for  matters  of  principle,  Robert's  letters  to  us  have 
not  been  entirely  silent  in  that  regard  concerning 
you." 

VS— 7 


98  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

A  slight  shadow  passed  over  Billy's  face  at  this 
statement,  and  he  gave  an  impatient  gesture. 

"But  I'm  going  on,"  he  continued,  determinedly, 
"for  I  tell  you  now  it  is  something  I  have  never  for- 
gotten and  never  shall ;  but  what  surprised  me  still 
more  was  the  moral  courage  you  showed,  when  in  our 
home  you  read  with  us  the  books  and  papers  of  the 
church  and  declared  bravely  that  you  were  ready  to 
take  your  stand  on  the  side  of  right  in  harmony  with 
your  convictions.  That's  what  took  with  mother  and 
turned  her  towards  the  church,  and  made  some  of 
the  rest  of  us  think  a  little  more  than — — " 

"Oh,  oh !  please  do  not  give  me  any  credit  for  that," 
Janey  expostulated,  in  real  distress.  "You  don't 
know  how  I  had  fought  and  how  I  had  struggled  and 
rebelled  for  weeks  against  the  truth,  and  how  God 
brought  me  to  accept  it  through  bitter  anguish  and 
almost  despair.  Whatever  you  say,  don't,  don't 
praise  me  for  any  courage  there.  Only  God's  mercy 
and  leadings  through  trial  ever  made  me  willing  to 
take  the  course  I  did  and " 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  the  struggle  you 
went  through;  I  only  know  what  you  did,"  Billy 
pursued  evenly  and  in  a  low  voice,  "and  I  know  that 
you  had  the  courage  of  your  convictions,  and  when 
I  saw  you  bravely  stepping  out,  so  far  as  you  knew 
relinquishing  if  necessary  everything  that  was  dear- 
est to  you  in  life,  I  thought  you  the  most  courageous 
girl  I  had  ever  seen.  Can  you  imagine  how  cowardly 
it  made  me  feel — me  a  big,  strong,  strapping  fel- 


A  SUDDEN  CHANGE  OF  TEMPERATURE   99 

low,  waiting  and  afraid,  and  you  a  girl,  younger  by 
several  years — and — and " 

"Mr.  Gibson,  I  won't— list " 

"Pardon  me;  not  Mr.  Gibson,  but  Billy,  if  you 
please;  and  listen  just  a  moment  longer,"  with  a  de- 
taining hand  as  she  was  about  to  hurry  away.  "I've 
wanted  to  tell  you,  Janey,  how  downright  ashamed 
I've  been  of  my  own  cowardice  in  hesitating  to  enter 
the  church  which  I  was  convinced  long  before  had 
the  truth.  You'll  never  realize  the  influence  your 
course  had  upon  me.  Girls  never  know  how  much 
of  influence  they  hold  over  young  men  when  it  comes 
to  questions  of  right  and  principle.  I  owe  my  alle- 
giance to  this  faith,  in  a  great  measure,  to  you." 

"But  I  nev " 

"I  must  interrupt  once  more,"  he  said,  looking 
down  at  her  with  an  expression  that  betokened  more 
than  mere  gratitude,  "just  to  say  this,  that  I'm  self- 
ishly hoping  to  win  favor  that  your  influence  may 
always  be " 

"There's  a  cold  wave  coming  from  the  northwest 
this  evening,  and  a  drop  of  forty  degrees  in  the  tem- 
perature before  morning,  which  means  we  can  have 
a  skating  party  on  the  lake  by  to-morrow  evening, 
sure  as  fate !"  and  Lu,  her  brown  locks  in  wild  dis- 
order, cheeks  flushed  and  rosy  from  excitement  and 
the  exercise,  and  breathless  from  a  swift  run  up 
the  street  in  order  to  be  first  to  tell  the  news,  rushed 
through  the  doorway  of  the  sitting  room  with  star- 
tling abruptness  and  dropped  in  a  disordered  heap  on 
the  first  chair. 


100  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

"How  now!"  exclaimed  Billy,  disconcerted  only 
for  the  moment  and  collecting  himself  quickly,  while 
Janey,  glad  of  the  opportunity,  slipped  out  by  the 
other  door  and  ran  upstairs  to  her  own  room.  "What 
a  breezy  little  forecaster  preparing  the  way!  Pray, 
little  Miss  Weather  Prophet,  how  long  has  it  been 
since  you  left  the  North  Pole  with  this  news? 
Whence  do  you  come  and  whither  do  you  go  ?  Didst 
obtain  the  news  from  the  god  of  wind  or  of  storm, 
or  from  the  kingdom  of  fairies?" 

"No,  from  more  certain  quarters — Ned  and  the 
weather  bureau,"  replied  Lu,  in  a  matter-of-fact  way, 
brushing  back  the  hair  from  before  her  face  and 
looking  about  to  see  what  had  become  of  her  sister. 
"Where  did  Janey  go  so  quickly?" 

"Gone  to  get  ready  for  the  skating  party,  I  opine/' 
replied  the  other,  nonchalantly.  "Since  the  weather 
bureau  and  its  special  messenger  announce  it  in  such 
emphatic  terms  it's  well  to  begin  preparations  in 
plenty  of  time.  You  know  how  long  it  takes  girls 
to  get  ready." 

"Bother !  Not  so  long  as  it  takes  some  boys  I  might 
mention.  But  I  thought  you  were  wishing  for  cold 
weather  this  morning.  You  promised  to  take  us  all 
out  to  the  lake  if  it  came." 

"So  I  did  and  so  I  shall,  weather  and  all  things  fa- 
vorable; I'll  even  take  you  along,  Lu,  which  shows 
how  forgiving  I  am." 

"Forgiving?"  with  wide-eyed  astonishment. 

"Yes,  forgiving,"  Billy  rejoined,  mischievously 
enjoying  her  bewilderment;  "forgiving  all % the  hard 


A  SUDDEN  CHANGE  OF  TEMPERATURE   101 

things  you  thought  and  said  about  me  when  I  first 
came/' 

Lu  sprang  to  her  feet  in  quick  anger.  "I  never 
thought  Janey  or  Madeline  would  tell  what  I  said," 
she  exclaimed  in  a  hurt  voice. 

"Wait,  hold  on;  not  so  quick  to  jump  to  con- 
clusions/' Billy  hastened  to  say.  "Neither  Janey 
nor  Madeline  ever  told  me  a  word  about  it.  Rest 
assured  of  that.  I  thought  you  knew  your  sisters 
better.  I  didn't  need  anyone  to  tell  me,  for  the  very 
first  evening  I  arrived  here  I  knew  I  had  an  enemy 
in  camp,"  and  he  smiled  upon  her  quizzically. 

Lu  flushed  and  dropped  weakly  into  the  chair 
again.  "I — I  never  meant  to  be  discourteous,"  she 
said  in  a  low  voice  and  one  that  was  very  contrite 
for  Lu,  "but — I  didn't — well,  I  might  have  liked  you 
a  little  better  if — you  had  come  to  see  Ned  instead 
of  my  Janey." 

"Oh,  ho !  and  there's  the  rub,  with  special  empha- 
sis on  the  my.  Then  to  gain  favor  with  you  L  shall 
visit  Ned" ;  resting  one  foot  on  the  round  of  her  chair 
and  regarding  her  with  mock  seriousness.  "He  has  a 
letter  of  recommendation  from  Robert  in  his  pocket. 
Will  that  help  any?" 

Lu  straightened  up  and  tossed  her  head  disdain- 
fully. "You're  not  one  bit  enthusiastic  about  the 
skating,"  she  returned,  irrelevantly.  "I  thought 
you'd  be  just  crazy  about  it." 

"So  I  was  yesterday,  but  circumstances  diverted 
my  thoughts  into  other  channels." 

The  girl  gave  his  face  such  a  keen,  searching  look 


102  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

that  the  young  man  hastened  to  add,  "Neverthe- 
less, my  little  enemy,  you'll  see  how  enthusiastic  and 
also  how  magnanimous  I  can  be  if  that  weather  pre- 
diction is  fulfilled ;  for  I'll  come  with  the  car,  or  some 
other  kind  of  rig  if  the  roads  prove  too  rough  for  it, 
and  take  the  whole  tribe  to  the  lake,  and  I'll  challenge 
you  right  now  to  a  race  across  the  pond." 

"There  comes  Ned,"  the  girl  exclaimed,  as  the 
outer  door  of  the  kitchen  banged  in  a  breezy  man- 
ner. "But  just  the  same,"  she  whispered  to  herself, 
as,  her  brother  having  entered  the  sitting  room, 
she  slipped  away  with  a  relieved  sigh  to  her  accus- 
tomed refuge,  the  pantry,  "I  would  like  to  know 
what  they  were  talking  about  when  I  came  in  that 
made  them  look  so  dreadfully  serious." 


THE    SKATING   PARTY  103 

CHAPTER  11 

THE  SKATING  PARTY 

THE  PREDICTED  fall  in  temperature  did  oc- 
cur that  night;  one  of  those  sudden  changes 
that  so  often  come  to  the  Middle  States  in 
winter,  and  before  morning  the  mercury  hovered 
around  a  number  of  degrees  below  zero.    The  roads 
Jpeing  in  fairly  good  condition,  a  little  rough  in  some 
places,  but  in  the  main  hard  and  smooth,  Billy, 
shortly  after  dinner,  motored  out  to  the  lake  from 
his  uncle's  and,  after  testing  the  ice,  telephoned  into 
town  for  the  young  folks  to  be  ready  and  he  would 
drive  in  for  them  some  time  during  the  afternoon. 

Unfortunately  the  work  at  the  brown  cottage  made 
but  slow  progress  that  day.  Mrs.  Warren  felt  an 
attack  of  sick  headache  coming  on,  and  before  noon 
Janey  was  called  out  to  visit  one  of  her  pupils  who 
was  ill.  She  had  expected  to  be  gone  only  a  little 
while,  but  the  little  patient,  irritable  and  cross, 
begged  and  cried  for  her  not  to  go,  and  the  girl, 
though  knowing  the  need  of  her  help  at  home  and 
inwardly  fretting  to  get  back,  felt  compelled  to  re- 
main and  soothe  the  restless,  hysterical  child  into 
quiet,  as  no  one  else  seemed  able  to  do. 

In  consequence  of  this  continued  delay  it  was 
nearly  three  o'clock  when  at  last  she  reached  home. 
By  the  warmth  of  the  sitting  room  fire  Madeline 
had  just  finished  brushing  out  her  long,  fair  hair, 


104  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

and  braiding  it  into  one  heavy  braid,  and  was  mount- 
ing the  familiar  blue  bow  in  its  place  when  her  sis- 
ter hurried  in.  On  a  chair  near  by  lay  her  warmest 
woolen  dress,  ready  to  be  donned  for  the  trip.  Lu 
sat  by  the  machine,  some  sewing  on  her  lap,  and 
with  no  signs  of  preparation  for  the  skating  party. 
"Where's  mother,  Lu  ?  and  why  aren't  you  getting 
ready?  The  boys  will  be  here  before  long,  won't 
they?  I  never  dreamed  that  I'd  have  to  be  gone  so 
long." 

4 'Mother's  head  is  so  much  worse  that  she  had  to 
go  to  bed.  I  can't  go,  Janey,  for  she  promised  to 
have  this  dress  done  for  Sadie  Flowers  this  after- 
noon, and  it  will  take  at  least  an  hour,  perhaps 
longer,  to  finish  it."  Lu's  voice  was  sober,  and  the 
bright  head  had  a  downcast  droop  which  the  older 
sister  did  not  fail  to  notice,  for  it  was  unusual  of  Lu 
to  be  otherwise  than  sunshiny. 

"That's  a  perfect  shame,  Lu.  I  wish  I  needn't 
have  gone,  but  when  they  sent  for  me  I  could  hardly 
refuse,  and  it  was  so  hard  to  get  away  from  poor 
little  Daisy.  She's  dreadfully  cross  and  poor  Mrs. 
Dennisem  is  almost  worn  out.  I  was  glad  to  help 
a  little,  though  I  did  want  to  be  home,  and  I'd 
have  come  sooner  if  I  could  have  done  so."  She  was 
hurriedly  throwing  off  her  wraps  and  hanging  them 
in  the  little  corner  closet.  "Now  let  me  see  what 
there  is  to  do  to  the  dress,"  she  added,  coming  to 
Lu's  side. 

"Nothing  very  difficult  at  all,  but  it  all  takes  a 
little  time.  Some  of  the  seams  to  finish,  the  hooks 


THE   SKATING   PARTY  105 

and  eyes  to  sew  on,  and  a  place  or  two  to  fix  about 
the  collar/'  replied  the  younger  sister,  holding  the 
dress  up  for  her  inspection.  "Then  it  has  to  be 
pressed,  of  course." 

"I  see.  Well,  you  let  me  have  it  now  and  I'll  work 
on  it  while  you  get  ready.  I  want  you  to  go." 

"But,  Janey,  this  isn't  all,"  Lu  said,  a  trifle  fret- 
fully. "There's  all  the  evening  work  to  do  besides 
— coal  and  wood  to  get  in,  and  the  dress  must  be 
taken  home." 

"I  know,  but  Lu,  dear,  you've  been  counting  so 
much  on  this  skating  party,  and  you're  going  to  go 
out  to  the  lake  with  the  rest  of  them,"  declared  the 
other  with  quiet  determination.  "You  always  carry 
the  burdens,  and  I  think  you're  entitled  to  a  little 
play.  I'm  going  to  stay  myself  and  look  after  things 
this  time." 

"Oh,  no,  you  mustn't — I  couldn't  let  you  do  that," 
exclaimed  Lu.  "And  Mr.  Gibson  wouldn't  like  it, 
either " 

"Never  mind  about  him;  you've  been  having  too 
much  to  do  lately.  Now  run  along  and  get  ready, 
like  a  good  girl.  I  simply  won't  go  unless  you  can 
go  also,"  she  added  as  Lu  demurred.  "Hurry  now, 
for  Ned  and  Mr.  Gibson  will  soon  be  here  and  you 
won't  be  ready." 

Further  arguments  proving  useless,  Lu  ran  up- 
stairs to  do  her  sister's  bidding ;  but  the  boys,  coming 
in  a  few  minutes  later,  raised  a  storm  of  protest 
against  anyone  remaining  at  home,  which  quite  over- 
ruled every  objection. 


106  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

"Sure  we're  not  going  to  go  and  leave  anybody 
behind,"  declared  Billy,  when  Janey  set  forth  the 
reasons  for  either  herself  or  Lu  remaining  at  home. 

"I  should  say  not/'  echoed  Ned.  "Either  we  all 
go  or  we  all  stay;  that's  what  I  say  about  it." 

"Oh,  no,  the  girls  would  be  so  disappointed " 

"No  need  for  anybody  to  be  disappointed,"  as- 
serted Billy.  "As  soon  as  Lu's  ready  can't  you  both 
work  at  the  dress?  Ned  and  I  will  have  the  wood 
and  coal  and  water  all  in  in  a  jiffy,  and  get  the  fires 
fixed  so  your  mother  won't  have  to  get  up  to  see 
about  anything.  We  can  drive  around  by  the  Den- 
nison's  with  the  dress  before  leaving  town.  We'll 
get  a  little  later  start,  maybe,  but  we  can  motor  out 
to  the  lake  in  fifteen  minutes  and  still  have  an 
abundance  of  time  for  a  good  skate  before  it  gets 
very  late." 

And  so  it  was  arranged.  From  that  moment  the 
work  was  accomplished  almost  magically,  and  in  less 
than  an  hour  a  merry  lot  of  young  folks,  well  bundled 
from  head  to  foot,  had  crowded  into  the  car  and 
were  being  whizzed  away  toward  Timber  Lake.  This 
lake  to  which  the  young  people  of  Banf  orth  resorted 
on  occasions  for  recreation  and  amusement,  was  a 
small  inland  body  of  water  that  filled  a  V-shaped 
basin  in  the  river  valley  several  miles  south  and  a 
little  to  the  west  of  Banf  orth.  It  was  not  far  from 
Farmer  Grayson's  field,  and  but  three  or  four  miles 
distant  from  the  home  of  Billy's  uncle.  Surrounded 
on  all  sides  with  a  thick  growth  of  timber,  it  was 
well  protected — alike  sheltered  from  winter  winds 


THE    SKATING    PARTY  107 

and  from  summer's  heat.  Smooth  and  shining  was 
its  surface  on  this  particular  afternoon,  and  a  num- 
ber of  skaters  were  already  there  when  our  young 
people  arrived.  With  merry  laughter  and  shouts 
they  tumbled  out  of  the  car,  ridding  themselves  of 
superfluous  wraps  and  robes,  and,  fastening  skates 
on  hurriedly,  were  soon  skimming  about  over  the 
smooth  ice. 

An  hour  sped  thus  on  swift  wings,  and  dusk  was 
settling  heavily  over  the  valley  and  lake  before  the 
young  people,  so  intent  upon  their  sport,  realized  it. 

"Now  for  the  race  we  were  to  have  before  we 
leave,"  challenged  Billy,  as,  Janey  having  stopped  to 
rest  a  little  and  talk  with  a  group  of  girls,  the  young 
man  glided  up  to  where  Lu  had  dropped  down  by 
the  bank  on  one  knee  and  was  vainly  trying  to  fasten 
together  a  broken  skate  strap.  "Hello!  what's  the 
matter  ?  Let  me  fix  that  for  you/' 

"It's  broken  almost  in  two,  and  it's  going  to  be 
too  short  with  that  piece  off,"  Lu  said  ruefully.  "I 
guess  my  skating's  done  for  this  time." 

"Don't  you  believe  it.  We'll  have  that  race  yet; 
see  if  we  don't,"  he  replied,  and  off  went  gloves  and 
from  pocket  came  knife  and  string  and  a  piece  of 
leather  he  had  been  thoughtful  enough  to  bring  with 
him.  "We'll  splice  that  together  in  no  time.  Plenty 
of  material  here  for  such  emergencies,  and,  presto 
change,  and  it's  fastened  together." 

"Hurry  up,  and  we'll  beat  both  of  you,"  called 
Madeline  and  Mamie,  as  hand  in  hand  they  skillfully 
turned  the  curve  of  the  bank  near  the  two  and 
started  off  to  the  northward  bend  of  the  lake. 


108  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

''We'll  give  you  a  fifty-yard  start  and  then  beat 
you,"  answered  Billy,  and  called  after  them  again 
in  a  warning  note:  "There's  a  watering  hole  up 
that  way  to  your  right,  girls,  by  the  fallen  willow ; 
better  steer  the  other  way." 

"I  think  the  girls  know  about  it,"  said  Lu.  "I'm 
sure  I've  been  warned  about  it  enough  since  I've 
been  out  here." 

"I  think,"  said  Billy,  glancing  up  at  the  clouds 
and  noting  their  lowering  aspect,  as  well  as  the  fast 
gathering  darkness,  "that  we'd  better  gather  our 
crowd  together  as  soon  as  we  get  back  from  this 
trip  across  the  lake  and  start  for  home.  I  promised 
your  mother,  you  know,  that  we  wouldn't  stay  late." 

"It  can't  be  very  late  yet,  can  it?"  asked  Lu.  "It 
seems  like  we've  been  out  here  but  a  few  minutes. 
It's  perfectly  splendid." 

"Night  falls  so  quickly,  though,  this  time  of  year, 
and  if  I  don't  keep  my  word  I  may  not  get  to  bring 
you  out  again,  don't  you  fear  ?"  he  inquired  lightly  as 
he  put  knife  and  the  remainder  of  his  string  and 
leather  back  in  his  pocket  and  stooped  to  fasten  the 
skate  on  firmly.  "There,  that  will  hold  all  right.  Come 
on,  now,"  and  with  a  few  quick,  firm  strokes  they 
were  off. 

Detained  longer  than  they  had  anticipated  with 
the  broken  skate  strap,  Mamie  and  Madeline  had 
gotten  much  the  start,  and  the  two  girls,  laughing 
and  talking  gayly  as  they  left,  had  heard  nothing  of 
Billy's  warning,  as  they  had  somehow  escaped  hear- 
ing it  from  any  of  the  others.  Unnoticed  now  by 


THE    SKATING    PARTY  109 

the  rest  of  the  skaters,  who  were  darting  hither  and 
thither,  they  had  turned  and  were  going  as  straight 
as  a  line  for  the  danger  point.  The  fast-gathering 
dusk  half  hid  them  in  its  obscurity  from  the  two 
who  were  racing  swiftly  toward  the  goal  they  had 
set  at  the  farther  end  of  the  lake.  Suddenly  a  wild, 
terrified  scream  rang  out  with  startling  distinctness 
over  the  lake,  followed  by  another  and  another,  ar- 
resting all  the  skaters  and  turning  them  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  fallen  willow  trunk.  Then  the  call 
rang  out  from  some  of  the  nearest  and  was  taken 
up  and  repeated  from  lip  to  lip,  "Somebody's  fallen 
into  the  watering  hole!  Help!  Help!  Quick!" 

Lu  stopped  with  a  cry  on  her  lips  and  stood  as  if 
frozen  to  the  spot.  Was  that  Madeline's  scream? 
Dazed  and  numb  with  a  terrible  fear  she  felt  her- 
self too  helpless  to  move.  She  tried  to  call  to  Billy 
to  hurry,  but  she  could  not  utter  a  sound.  He,  how- 
ever, had  turned  on  the  instant,  and  with  body  bent 
forward  and  long,  firm  strokes,  was  speeding  away 
like  the  wind  toward  the  scene  of  danger.  In  a 
second  the  crowd  upon  the  lake  was  in  confusion. 
Everyone  was  running,  shouting,  or  screaming — 
everyone  save  the  girl  who  remained  stricken  with 
terror.  Yet  most  of  those  running  were  accomplish- 
ing little  more  than  she,  in  their  misdirected,  confused 
efforts  to  help,  save  one  calm,  self-poised  figure  that 
turned  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left,  excepting 
as  it  cleverly  swerved  around  those  in  the  way.  With 
her  eyes  centered  on  that  one  strong  figure,  so  well 
controlled  and  so  intent  and  definite  on  its  purpose 
bent,  she  watched  it  pass  one  after  another  of  the 


110  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

skaters  and  enter  the  clear  open  space  ahead  of  the 
confused  throng. 

The  young  man  had  covered  more  than  half  the 
distance  to  the  watering  hole  before  Lu  could  gather 
her  scattered  senses.  At  that  moment  she  discerned 
Janey's  flying  figure  coming  swiftly  around  the  bend 
from  the  north  with  the  fleetness  of  a  deer  and  pass 
in  ahead  of  the  crowd  a  number  of  yards  in  Billy's 
rear.  With  a  last  desperate  effort  the  girl  shook  her- 
self from  that  paralyzing  numbness  which  had  held 
her  in  its  iron  grip  and  started  forward.  Once  mov- 
ing, her  skates  cut  the  ice  with  remarkable  precision 
and  surety,  and  she  gained  rapidly  in  speed  with 
every  stroke,  but  her  eyes  still  kept  close  watch  on  the 
fallen  tree,  now  more  plainly  discernible,  and  the 
figure  in  the  lead  of  the  swiftly  moving  skaters.  As 
the  crowd  surged  a  little  to  the  right  she  saw  him 
skate  dangerously  near  the  hole  by  the  willow  trunk, 
throw  himself  flat  upon  the  ice  near  its  edge,  catch 
his  feet  securely  around  a  stubby  limb,  and  grasp 
quickly  for  an  object  in  the  dark  cold  waters  below. 
Had  he  failed  to  reach  it?  No,  she  caught  her  breath, 
as  she  saw  him  hold  it  firmly  from  sinking  again. 
Only  a  moment,  and  then  others  were  there  to  help 
him  lift  the  unconscious  form  of  Mamie  Clayton 
from  the  icy,  treacherous  clutches  that  had  so  nearly 
made  her  their  victim.  As  they  carried  the  limp, 
lifeless  looking  form  up  the  embankment  and  began 
measures  to  restore  it  to  consciousness,  Lu  noted  for 
the  first  time  frightened  little  Madeline  standing  by 
the  old  willow  trunk,  crying  and  screaming  hysteri- 
cally. 


THE  DEBATE  111 

CHAPTER   12 

» 

THE   DEBATE 

WHEN  William  Gibson  returned  to  Clifton 
City  after  the  two  weeks'  vacation,  there 
was  that  in  his  manner  which  indicated 
the  holidays  spent  at  his  uncle's  and  among  new- 
found friends  had  been  very  pleasant  ones.  Robert's 
eyes,  as  he  pressed  his  friend's  hand,  were  more  ex- 
pressive of  the  gratitude  he  felt  for  the  rescue  of  his 
sister  than  were  the  words  he  tried  to  utter,  for  at 
least  three  letters,  each  giving  a  detailed  account  of 
the  accident  and  the  part  Billy  played  in  it,  had  been 
written  him  by  members  of  his  own  and  the  Warren 
household. 

"(Stuff  and  nonsense,'*  blustered  Billy,  interrupt- 
ing him  with  an  impatient  gesture.  "Can't  a  fellow 
take  a  slide  and  on  the  way  grab  somebody  out  of  the 
water  without  being  dubbed  a  hero  and  everybody 
falling  over  him  with  gratitude?" 

"I  know,  Gibson,  but  just  the  same  I  want  to " 

"Cut  it  out,  Clayton.  I  know  all  you'd  say,  but  I 
don't  need  any  reward  of  merit  for  saving  that  nice 
little  sister  of  yours,  and  the  ten  million  thanks  of  a 
polite  Chinaman  wouldn't  express  your  feelings;  so 
what's  the  use?  (Save  somebody  else's  sister  and  then 
we'll  be  square.  Pass  a  good  deed  along,  you  know; 
that's  according  to  the  Golden  Rule,  isn't  it?  Strikes 
me  you're  looking  thin.  Been  keeping  your  nose  too 


112  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

close  to  the  grindstone,  I'll  vow.  See  here,  you've  got 
to  let  up  on  this  and  allow  a  little  help  once  in  a 
while." 

Robert  laughed.  "The  loss  of  a  little  flesh  won't 
hurt  me,  I  guess,"  he  responded  quite  cheerfully. 
"But  I  sure  had  a  mess  of  accounts  to  straighten 
out  at  Dyke  &  Simpson's  store.  Their  bookkeeper 
had  been  ill  three  weeks,  and  such  a  muddle  of  af- 
fairs you  never  saw.  I  suppose  if  I  were  an  expert 
bookkeeper  like  yourself  I'd  have  been  able  to 
straighten  it  out  easily ;  but  it  took  me  a  day  or  two 
to  get  on  to  the  system.  However,  by  working  all  day 
every  day  and  about  half  the  nights,  I  managed  to 
get  things  in  pretty  good  shape.  It  was  worth  my 
while,  too,  for  they  paid  me  well,  and  the  money  will 
be  a  big  help  on  expenses  this  semester.  Besides, 
the  manager  told  me  if  I  ever  wanted  a  job  to  let  him 
know,  and  that's  encouraging  to  a  fellow  who's  likely 
to  be  in  need  of  one." 

"I  should  hope  they'd  pay  you  well,"  replied  Billy. 
"A  fellow  that  works  his  brains  out  for  an  institu- 
tion as  you  do  ought  to  be  appreciated.  But  such  a 
vacation!  Old  fellow,  you  can't  always  stand  that 
kind  of  a  pace." 

"I'm  glad  I  stayed,  anyhow,  if  I  did  miss  the  good 
times.  But  tell  me  all  about  the  folks  and  the  hap- 
penings at  Banforth.  I  want  to  hear  about  every- 
body." 

Billy  launched  out  in  a  detailed  description  of  his 
uncle's  home,  of  his  visits  with  Robert's  father  and 
mother  and  sister,  also  of  his  calls  at  the  brown  cot- 


THE   DEBATE  113 

tage.    Of  one  person  there  only  did.  he  say  but  little, 
and  of  her,  too,  Robert  was  strangely  silent. 

With  the  beginning  of  another  semester  the  two 
young  men  settled  once  more  into  a  strenuous  college 
life.  Both  were  inveterate  workers.  Each  had  that 
which  is  the  greatest  incentive  to  successful  work — 
a  definite  purpose  in  view.  Billy's  study  hours  were 
quite  as  long  as  Robert's  and  he  stuck  to  his  tasks  as 
faithfully  and  thoroughly;  but  he  held  the  advan- 
tages of  more  freedom  from  financial  worry,  from 
the  continual  harrowing  thought  of  insufficient 
funds,  which  Robert  always  carried  with  him.  As 
the  days  passed  their  friendship  grew  apace  and  they 
spent  more  and  more  time  in  each  other's  society,  for 
when  the  northwest  winds  made  Robert's  poorly 
heated  room  unendurable,  his  books  were  transferred 
to  Billy's  comfortable  quarters  and  study  hours 
found  him  always  there,  where  comfort  and  hospi- 
tality were  alike  freely  dispensed. 

The  second  and  long-talked-of  contest  between  the 
Agathean  and  Erodelphian  societies  took  place  in 
the  form  of  a  debate  some  time  in  the  early  part  of 
March.  Expressed  in  the  free  vernacular  of  Billy, 
it  was  a  "howling  success"  for  the  Erodelphians. 
"And  you  can't  accuse  me  this  time,  Sir  Robert,"  he 
jocularly  declared  after,  the  young  man  had  been 
borne  about  on  the  shoulders  of  enthusiastic  and  ex- 
ultant Erodelphians  for  nearly  half  an  hour,  and  his 
praises  shouted  until  they  were  hoarse,  "you  can't 
accuse  me  this  time  of  giving  you  the  honors.  You 
took  'em  off  so  high  above  my  head  it  fairly  took  my 
VS— 8 


114  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

breath.  Honest,  Robert,  I  don't  mind  making  a  speech 
so  much  if  I  can  just  have  it  prepared  beforehand, 
but  I  never  could  have  made  that  rebuttal  speech  as 
you  did,  worlds  without  end.  It  was  the  grandest  ex- 
temporaneous thing  I  ever  heard.  Gladstone  couldn't 
have  beaten  it  himself." 

In  Banforth,  at  the  Clayton  home  as  well  as  at 
the  brown  cottage,  the  excitement  over  the  affair  was 
almost  as  intense  as  among  the  members  of  the  two 
societies  themselves.  The  young  folks  were  together 
nearly  every  day  for  days  before,  discussing  the  com- 
ing event  and  the  possibilities  of  defeat  and  proba- 
bilities of  victory  for  their  friends.  Frequent  letters 
from  Clifton  City  kept  them  constantly  apprised  of 
the  progress  the  two  young  men  were  making  in 
their  preparation,  and  their  hopes  or  fears  for  the 
outcome. 

As  the  time  set  for  the  debate  drew  near,  Ned's 
desire  to  hear  it  grew  in  intensity,  until  he  declared 
if  the  roads  were  in  good  condition  he  would  under- 
take to  make  the  trip  to  Clifton  City  on  his  bicycle ; 
for  that  long-coveted  article  was  now  in  his  posses- 
sion. Janey,  remembering  gratefully  the  sacrifice 
he  had  made  for  the  new  dress  she  had  so  much 
wanted  for  her  baccalaureate  Sunday,  had  on  last 
Christmas  put  in  the  toe  of  his  stocking  the  remain- 
der of  the  amount  needed  to  purchase  the  wheel. 

"But  there's  no  knowing  what  accident  might  hap- 
pen to  you  on  the  way,"  the  mother  said  anxiously, 
"and  the  weather  is  so  uncertain  this  time  of  year. 
It  may  turn  bad  at  any  time  and  the  roads  become 


THE   DEBATE  115 

impassable.    If  you  go  at  all  you  had  better  go  on  the 
train." 

"But  I  haven't  the  money  for  that,"  he  said,  rest- 
lessly moving  about  from  window  to  window. 
"There's  no  danger  whatever  if  you  only  would  give 
your  consent." 

"I  shouldn't  mind  it  quite  so  much  if  you  were  not 
going  alone,  but  I  should  be  uneasy  all  the  time,"  she 
replied,  with  a  worried  look. 

Ned  did  not  altogether  conceal  the  fact  that  he  felt 
out  of  sorts  over  his  mother's  decision.  "I  have  the 
bicycle  and  I  might  as  well  ride  it,"  he  grumbled. 
"What's  the  use  of  having  anything  if  you  can't  get 
the  good  out  of  it?" 

Nothing  more  was  said  till  that  evening  when 
Janey  met  him  in  the  little  hallway  upstairs  and 
stopping  him  pushed  a  bit  of  crisp  paper  between  his 
fingers.  "Here,  brother  mine,"  she  whispered,  "take 
this  and  go  to  the  debate.  You  made  good  grades 
all  the  year  and  you  can  easily  get  a  leave  of  absence 
for  two  or  three  days  from  your  teachers,  and  mother 
won't  care  if  you  go  on  the  train." 

Ned  gave  one  glance  at  the  slip  of  green. 

"Why,  Janey,  I  couldn't  do  that.  Five  dollars! 
and  you  and  the  folks  need  every  cent  of  it." 

"You  deserve  it,  Ned.  You've  stayed  at  home  all 
your  life  and  saved  and  worked  for  us  all  like  a  man. 
I  want  you  to  go  this  once  and  have  a  royal  good 
time.  This  will  pay  your  car  fare  and  the  boys  will 
see  that  you  want  for  nothing  while  you  are  there. 
Besides,  you  have  a  little  money  that  you  can  use  if 


116  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

you  need  it.  Now  don't  be  so  conscientious  that  you 
can't  take  it  and  go  and  enjoy  yourself.  It  wouldn't 
be  right  for  you  to  go  on  the  wheel  and  worry  mother 
so,  but  she  won't  object  to  this,  I  know,  because  she'd 
like  to  have  you  go.  She  said  as  much  to  me  and 
that  she'd  let  you  have  the  money  if  she  had  it." 

Ned's  spirits  gave  a  great  bound.  He  fairly 
shouted. 

"I'll  pay  you  back  some  day,  Janey ;  indeed  I  will. 
You're  sure  good  to  all  of  us,"  and  he  bounded  down- 
stairs to  tell  Lu  and  Madeline  the  good  news. 

Two  days  later,  having  obtained  the  written  ex- 
cuse from  his  teachers,  Ned  was  off  for  the  first  real 
pleasure  trip  of  his  life.  His  letter  written  to  his 
three  sisters  and  Mamie  the  next  day  after  the  de- 
bate was  not  wanting  in  boyish  enthusiasm,  though 
events  were  somewhat  disconnectedly  told. 

"Hurrah  for  the  Eros !  Three  cheers  for  the  cham- 
pions, Robert  and  Billy.  I  can't  wait  till  I  get  home 
to  tell  you  about  it/'  he  wrote  that  afternoon  while 
Billy  and  Robert  were  attending  their  respective 
classes;  "besides,  the  boys 'say  I've  got  to  stay  the 
rest  of  the  week  and  be  here  Sunday.  There's  a  train 
leaves  here  Monday  morning  that  will  get  me  in 
home  before  noon,  and  I  won't  lose  but  one  or  two 
recitations,  so  guess  I'll  stay,  for  Robert  and  Billy 
won't  hear  to  anything  else.  They're  mighty  good  to 
me.  Tell  you,  I'm  lucky. 

"I  can't  wait  so  long  to  tell  you  about  everything, 
so  I'm  writing  this  down  here  in  Billy's  room  while 
the  boys  are  gone.  Tell  you  it's  a  swell  room !  But 


THE   DEBATE  117 

the  debate — it  was  great,  and  you  should  have  heard 
Robert  and  Billy.  They  sure  make  a  splendid  team. 
Of  course  Robert  carried  off  the  honors  so  far  as  the 
real  victory  was  concerned.  He's  a  natural-born  ora- 
tor— I  heard  two  professors  say  so — and  will  make 
his  mark  in  the  world  some  day.  Billy's  not  a  whit 
behind  him  in  a  lot  of  things,  but  he  can't  sway  an 
audience  as  Robert  can.  Billy  knows  it,  too,  and  it 
would  do  you  good  to  see  him  stand  by  and  rejoice 
in  the  victory  as  much  as  though  it  were  his  own. 
He's  true  blue,  all  right. 

"Then  that  rebuttal  speech  Robert  made !  How  he 
ever  managed  to  get  all  those  telling  points  arranged 
against  the  arguments  of  the  other  side  and  put  them 
in  such  a  convincing  way  in  a  five-minute  speech  is 
a  wonder  to  me  yet.  The  audience  sat  spellbound. 
When  the  judges'  decision  was  read  the  Erodelphians 
went  wild.  They  fairly  lunged  for  the  platform  and 
carried  him  all  over  the  hall  on  their  shoulders.  They 
planned  to  carry  him  down  town  this  morning,  but 
he  slipped  away  from  them  somehow. 

"Say,  how  I  wish  you  girls  could  have  been  here 
and  heard  it,  and  I  wish  you  could  see  the  college. 
I'm  having  the  time  of  my  life.  I  believe  I'd  be  half 
inclined  to  come  here  myself  when  I  get  through  high 
school,  if  I  hadn't  set  my  heart  on  Graceland  College. 
Even  this  beautiful  place  doesn't  quite  banish  the 
dream  I  have  of  our  own  institution. 

"The  boys  have  just  come  back  from  class,  and  I'm 
going  out  with  them  for  a  hike.  I'll  tell  you  every- 
thing when  I  get  home.  "NED." 


118  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

CHAPTER  13 

A  CLOUD  IN   THE   JUNE   TIME   SKY 

APRIL'S  soft  breath  and  gentle  caresses  had 
broken  the  last  fetter  that  had  held  in  check 
icebound  rivers  and  lakes,  and  responding  to 
sunshine  and  shower,  in  every  nook  and  corner  of 
Nature's  domain,  new  life  was  astir.  The  last  week 
of  the  month  brought  disappointing  news  to  Robert 
from  home.  His  father  had  been  appointed  by  the 
General  Conference  for  the  year  to  the  far-off  mis- 
sion field  of  Oregon.  The  news  came  to  him  first  in 
a  letter  from  his  mother,  who  wrote  it  in  the  same 
quiet,  uncomplaining  spirit  that  had  always  been 
characteristic  of  her. 

"If  my  mother  doesn't  get  a  reward  for  her  labor 
and  sacrifice  in  this  work  no  one  ever  will,"  Robert 
declared,  as  having  finished  reading  it,  he  laid  the 
letter  on  the  window  sill  and  gazed  out  over  the  city 
to  the  distant  hills.  "But  why,"  he  added  in  a  trou- 
bled tone,  "in  the  name  of  all  that's  reasonable,  did 
they  send  him  to  Oregon?" 

His  brows  contracted  as  he  meditated.  It  seemed 
to  him  that  their  home  and  the  work  in  that  vicinity 
needed  his  father  more  than  any  other  place  could 
need  him.  Was  not  the  little  band  in  Banforth,  with 
the  strength  of  many  of  its  members  yet  untried,  as 
much  in  need  of  a  good  shepherd  as  others,  and  were 
there  not  as  many  people  in  the  surrounding  country 


A  CLOUD   IN   THE   JUNE   TIME   SKY  119 

who  had  never  heard  the  gospel  as  there  were  in  far- 
off  fields?    Why,  then,  this  sudden  transfer? 

Evidently  the  change  was  as  much  of  a  surprise 
to  his  father  as  to  himself  and  the  rest,  and  the  same 
questions  had  arisen  in  his  mind,  as  Robert  learned 
by  a  letter  he  received  that  afternoon.  It  was  Satur- 
day afternoon  and  he  was  tired  of  study  and  of  the 
confinement  in  his  stuffy  little  room.  Billy  had  gone 
with  a  crowd  up  the  river.  The  hillside  of  Clifton 
Heights  was  bursting  into  leaf  and  blossom  and  the 
lure  of  the  outdoors  had  been  calling  to  him  all  the 
long  day.  When  the  postman  came  with  this  and 
another  letter,  he  slipped  both  into  his  pocket  and  an- 
swered the  call.  The  sun  shone  warmly,  from  many 
a  little  bird  throat  came  in  rippling  cadences  the  joy 
of  life  and  hope  and  praise,  and  everywhere  reigned 
the  spirit  of  springtime.  Robert  crossed  the  campus 
and  reached  a  secluded  place  not  far  from  the  birch 
grove.  There  he  threw  himself  down  on  the  soft, 
new  carpet  of  velvety  grass  and  tore  open  his  fa- 
ther's letter.  It  was  full  of  news  of  the  business  of 
the  conference,  all  of  which  was  of  interest  to  the 
young  man,  but  it  was  the  latter  part  that  concerned 
him  most  deeply : 

"That  my  assignment  to  the  new  mission  field  was 
a  disappointment  to  me,"  the  latter  pages  ran,  "is 
undeniable.  I  feel  quite  at  a  loss  to  understand  how 
such  a  change  can  be  beneficial  to  anyone,  or  can  be 
right  under  the  circumstances.  In  the  past  I  have 
tried,  as  I  am  trying  now,  to  be  willing  to  place  my- 
self in  readiness  to  go  anywhere  the  Lord  desired  to 


120  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

send  me.  It  has  almost  been  my  creed  to  answer, 
'I'll  go  where  you  want  me  to  go,  dear  Lord/  but  for 
once  I  find  myself  doubting  the  wisdom  of  this 
change.  What  surprises  me  still  more,  no  one  has 
been  appointed  to  take  my  place  here.  There  is,  of 
course,  the  missionary  in  charge,  but  he  will  not 
have  the  time  to  give  Banforth  and  vicinity  the  spe- 
cial care  needed  at  this  time,  else  all  the  work  which 
has  been  done  may  be  wasted.  It  seems  to  me  that 
our  efforts  of  the  past  year  should  be  followed  up  per- 
sistently by  one  who  is  capable  and  wise,  and  it  is 
this  thought  of  leaving  them  without  a  shepherd, 
more  than  for  myself  or  even  our  own  family  affairs, 
which  gives  me  the  greatest  anxiety.  I  candidly  ad- 
mit I  cannot  see  the  wisdom  of  allowing  the  work  to 
lapse  here  while  I  must  run  away  off  somewhere  to 
open  up  new  fields  which  will  perhaps  be  left  in  the 
same  way  a  year  hence. 

"Forgive  me  for  writing  in  such  a  strain.  I  be- 
lieve I  have  never  before  in  all  my  life  written  like 
this  to  you.  It  sounds  like  I  was  losing  faith,  and  I 
fear  lest  I  shall  be  putting  doubts  into  your  mind, 
and  yet  somehow  I  feel  as  though  I  needed  your  opin- 
ion in  this  matter  to  help  me  get  straightened  out 
again.  You  are  wise  and  capable  beyond  your  years, 
Robert,  with  a  keen  insight  into  spiritual  matters, 
and  almost  unconsciously,  I  discover,  I  have  begun  to 
lean  on  your  judgment  and  the  strength  of  your 
youth.  Down  deep  in  my  heart,  I  can  assure  you, 
there  is  a  feeling  that  all  will  be  directed  right, 
though  things  are  so  exactly  opposite  just  now  to 
that  which  my  reason  and  wisdom  dictate. 


A   CLOUD    IN   THE   JUNE    TIME    SKY  121 

"I  sincerely  hope  the  change  will  not  seriously  in- 
terfere with  your  affairs;  for  it  is  one  of  my  great 
desires  that  you  may  have  that  which  I  have  never 
been  able  to  get — a  college  education.  It  has  brought 
me  great  pleasure  and  satisfaction  to  learn  of  the 
good  work  you  have  done  this  year.  I  have  had  to 
make  my  way  through  without  even  the  advantage 
of  high  school  work,  and  this  has  seriously  handi- 
capped me  at  times,  yet  God  has  blessed  me  in  abund- 
ance and  his  Spirit  has  been  my  teacher  in  the  hour 
of  need.  It  has  taken  hard  work  and  much  study  on 
the  side  to  get  hold  of  the  necessary  things  in  an  edu- 
cational way  that  would  make  me  more  efficient  in 
my  labors,  for  I  do  contend  that  every  minister  for 
Christ  should  be  a  constant  and  earnest  student  of  all 
good  books  and  of  nature  and  life,  and  I  have  tried 
to  use  every  opportunity  to  improve  myself  that  the 
Lord  might  not  find  me  a  useless  instrument. 

"However,  I  need  not  write  further  now.  As  soon 
as  you  get  home  we  can  talk  everything  over,  your 
plans  for  the  coming  year,  etc.  In  the  meantime  I'll 
get  the  garden  made  and  do  some  repairing  about 
the  place.  I  shall  not  leave  until  the  latter  part  of 
June,  and  this  will  give  me  a  week  or  two  at  home 
after  your  return.  Would  be  glad  if  I  knew  of  some 
way  to  arrange  so  you  would  not  be  embarrassed  for 
lack  of  funds  next  winter  as  you  have  been  this  one. 
But,  as  in  the  past,  where  we  cannot  see  our  way 
clearly,  we  shall  have  to  trust  the  One  who  ever  pro- 
vides for  the  needs  of  his  children,  and  who  cannot 


122  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

fail  to  lead  us  aright  if  we  are  willing  to  seek  direc- 
tion from  him. 

"Eagerly  awaiting  your  return  home,  I  am 
"Affectionately  your  father, 

"RICHARD  CLAYTON/' 

Robert  placed  the  letter  away  in  his  pocket, 
stretched  himself  upon  the  soft  turf,  and  gave  him- 
self up  to  meditation.  Around  him  the  breeze  stirred 
softly.  Somewhere  above  him  amid  the  green  boughs 
a  pair  of  gentle-voiced  doves  were  cooing  softly  and 
trying  to  decide  if  the  old  tree  were  a  suitable  and 
proper  place  to  establish  their  makeshift  nest.  A 
few  bees  winged  their  way  past  him  with  drowsy 
hum.  Everywhere  about  him  nature  was  stirring 
with  the  newborn  life  and  activity  that  actuates  her 
after  her  long  season  of  rest  and  sleep.  The  young 
man  let  his  eyes  wander  dreamily  to  the  valley  with 
its  thickset  growth  of  forest  trees.  Somewhere  down 
there  below  the  foliage  of  heavy  underbrush  he  knew 
a  little  stream  rippled  along  the  narrow  valley, 
through  one  end  of  the  town,  and  emptied  itself  into 
Silver  River.  Up  the  larger  valley  to  the  northwest 
he  could  easily  discern  the  outlines  of  the  river, 
winding  its  way  along  toward  Clifton  City.  Again 
and  again  it  seemed  to  start  forward  in  a  direct 
course,  only  to  be  turned  aside  by  cliff  or  embank- 
ment. Would  his  own  life's  way  be  as  uncertain  as 
the  course  of  this  stream  ?  he  wondered.  Must  it  be 
constantly  obstructed  by  insurmountable  obstacles? 

For  some  weeks  past  Robert  had  ceased  to  enter- 
tain hopes  of  coming  back  to  Clifton  College  the  next 


A  CLOUD   IN   THE   JUNE   TIME   SKY  123 

year.  He  had  been  careful  all  along  to  conserve  his 
funds  and  make  them  reach  as  far  as  possible. 
He  had  worked  during  all  his  spare  moments 
between  hours  of  school  and  evening  hours  of  study, 
but  with  this  steady  effort  he  had  found  his  funds 
insufficient.  For  the  expenses  of  the  latter  part  of 
the  semester  he  had  been  obliged  to  obtain  a  small 
loan  to  enable  him  to  finish  the  year's  work.  He  had 
taken  Billy  at  his  word  and  in  his  strait  had  turned 
to  him.  But  Robert  felt  he  could  not  infringe  on  his 
friend's  generosity  by  asking  for  any  more  when  he 
had  nothing  whatever  to  fall  back  upon  with  which 
to  secure  payment ;  and  to  start  in  for  another  whole 
year  at  college  with  only  what  he  could  earn  during 
the  summer  vacation  looked  extremely  hazardous, 
to  say  the  least;  for  if  he  failed  or  anything  hap- 
pened to  him,  his  debt  would  be  left  for  his  parents 
to  pay. 

With  these  stern  facts  pressed  upon  him,  a  few 
days  before  he  had  written  to  trustees  of  two  or 
three  of  the  rural  schools  near  Banforth,  inclosing 
applications.  That  the  other  letter,  still  unopened  in 
his  pocket,  was  from  one  of  these  he  knew  well 
enough,  yet  he  felt  in  no  hurry  to  find  out  whether 
they  had  accepted  or  rejected  his  terms.  Without 
question,  it  was  clear  to  him  now,  he  must  teach, 
but  it  mattered  little  to  him  at  this  moment  where. 

Slowly  at  last  he  drew  the  letter  out  and  opened 
it.  It  proved  to  be  from  Farmer  Grayson  and  con- 
tained the  information  that  he  had  presented  Rob- 
ert's application  to  the  other  members  of  his  district 


124  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

board  and  believed  they  were  looking  with  favor 
upon  his  proposition.  As  for  himself  and  wife,  they 
were  delighted  at  the  prospect. 

"That's  encouraging,"  he  declared,  rather  half- 
heartedly, as  he  finished  the  brief,  pencil-scrawled 
pages,  and  his  eyes  again  meditatively  sought  the 
valley  and  winding  course  of  Silver  River.  "I  think 
the  Elm  Creek  School  would  be  my  choice  of  the  ones 
I  applied  for.  A  mile  from  Farmer  Grayson's  and 
five  miles  from  town.  I  could  walk  home  during  the 
nice  weather  in  the  fall,  and  his  home  will  be  a  good 
place  to  stay  in  the  winter." 

Not  many  weeks  later  and  the  college  year  was 
closing,  with  its  usual  round  of  social  events  and 
commencement  work,  and  Robert  and  Billy  were  bid- 
ding good-by  to  classmates  and  friends.  As  alone 
the  last  evening  in  his  little  room  Robert  packed  his 
books  in  his  trunk,  filling  in  the  vacant  spaces  with 
the  few  clothes  that  composed  his  wardrobe,  he 
looked  wistfully  about  at  its  already  deserted  ap- 
pearance, and  wondered  with  a  half  homesick  feel- 
ing if  he  would  ever  come  back  again.  He  was  already 
behind  most  of  his  comrades  in  leaving,  for 
the  chance  of  a  few  days'  work  in  the  store  where  he 
had  done  bookkeeping  during  the  holidays  had  prom- 
ised means  to  defray  his  expenses  home.  Even  Billy 
had  gone.  That  young  man  had  taken  his  departure 
— not  for  Dakota,  but  for  Banforth,  with  the  expla- 
nation that  his  uncle  had  a  little  business  he  wished 
him  to  see  to  before  he  left  for  the  north,  and  also 
had  a  good  position  in  view  for  him.  So  it  happened 


A  CLOUD    IN    THE   JUNE    TIME    SKY  125 

that  on  this  evening  and  the  following  morning  when 
Robert  was  ready  to  leave  Clifton  City  Heights  the 
place  was  deserted  of  college  students  and  it  wore  an 
air  of  quiet  repose  strangely  unlike  the  scenes  of  ac- 
tivity that  had  characterized  it  for  months. 

He  rose  early  that  morning,  just  as  the  gray  of 
early  dawn  was  dissolving  before  slowly  spreading 
crimson  tints  and  purplish  shadows,  and  walked  out 
over  the  hill  to  watch,  from  his  favorite  rock  on  the 
edge  of  the  great  cliff,  the  sun  rise  one  rhore  time. 
But  scarcely  had  he  reached  the  place  when  a  dull 
leaden  cloud  unfurled  itself  across  the  eastern  sky, 
shutting  completely  from  view  the  marvelous  beauty 
of  a  sunrise  that  was  one  of  the  boasted  glories  of 
Clifton  Heights.  With  a  feeling  that  he  had  been 
unreasonably  denied  something  very  dear  and  sacred 
that  should  belong  to  him  in  these  last  moments  on 
the  hill  of  his  dreams,  Robert  turned  away  and 
walked  slowly  to  the  railway  station,  reaching  it  an 
hour  earlier  than  necessary.  He  was  grateful  that, 
as  the  train  at  last  sped  out  of  the  town  and  away 
among  the  hills,  the  clouds  lifted  a  little  and,  looking 
back,  he  could  discern  once  again  the  outlines  of  the 
college  hill  and  the  tall  smokestacks  of  the  city. 

Once  out  of  sight  of  the  place,  his  eagerness  to 
reach  home  increased  with  every  mile  traveled. 
Wrapped  in  the  thoughts  of  good-byes  to  his  friends 
and  regret  at  the  thought  of  not  being  able  to  come 
back  another  year,  he  had  not  until  now  realized  how 
welcome  was  the  thought  of  home.  This  eagerness 
increased  till  by  the  time  the  train  steamed  into  Ban- 


126  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

forth  he  could  scarcely  wait  for  it  to  stop  moving. 
Because  of  uncertainty  as  to  the  time  when  he  would 
be  able  to  get  away,  he  had  not  written  them  what 
day  he  would  reach  home ;  but  for  the  past  two  days 
either  his  father  or  his  sister  Mamie,  in  anticipation 
of  his  arrival,  had  met  every  train,  and  she  was  there 
now,  wildly  dancing  about  on  the  depot  platform,  her 
quick  eyes  having  been  the  first  to  recognize  him  as 
he  stood  on  the  car  steps. 

As  might  be  suspected,  at  the  first  opportunity 
that  afternoon  he  slipped  away  and  turned  his  steps 
toward  the  brown  cottage.  Passing  again  on  his  way 
the  little  railway  station,  there  flashed  vividly  to  his 
mind  remembrance  of  the  chance  occurrence  of  a 
little  more  than  a  year  ago  which  had  brought  about 
his  first  meeting  with  Janey  Warren.  He  remem- 
bered bits  of  their  conversation  as  he  passed  along 
the  familiar  street,  and  recalled  again  her  eager, 
glowing  face  when  they  had  turned  the  corner  by 
the  cottage  and  as  together  they  had  stolen  along  the 
hedge,  quietly,  so  they  might  make  her  arrival  a  com- 
plete surprise.  He  paused  a  moment  at  this  very 
corner  now,  the  memory  of  that  day  fresh  in  his 
mind.  The  clouds  of  the  early  June  morning  had 
lifted  and  passed  away.  The  soft  fragrance  of  the 
roses  drifted  to  him  from  the  corner  of  the  garden. 
At  the  wren  box  the  tiny  birds  were  as  busy  as  ever 
with  their  homekeeping,  perhaps  the  very  identical 
pair  that  had  been  there  the  year  before.  The  blue 
peacefulness  of  the  sky  and  the  sweet  serenity  of  the 
atmosphere  bespoke  already  the  lazy  stillness  of  sum- 
mer time. 


A   CLOUD    IN   THE   JUNE    TIME    SKY  127 

All  at  once  a  shrill  honk  broke  upon  the  quiet  air 
with  its  abrupt  signal,  as  a  swift-flying  motor  car 
rounded  the  corner  of  the  other  street  a  bit  perilously 
and  brought  itself  to  a  sudden  standstill  before  the 
front  gate  of  the  little  brown  cottage.  Robert  started 
forward,  then  for  some  unaccountable  reason  drew 
back  in  the  shadow  of  the  great  maple  as  a  very  fa- 
miliar, lithe,  athletic  figure  sprang  out  of  the  car  and 
ran  lightly  to  the  front  door  and  went  in.  With  a 
sudden  premonition  the  young  man  stood  perfectly 
still  and  waited.  A  moment  later  Billy  and  Janey 
emerged  from  the  cottage  and  came  down  the  walk 
talking  and  laughing,  with  the  apparent  freedom  and 
understanding  of  a  well-established  friendship,  and 
Robert,  standing  back  unnoticed  in  the  shadow  of  the 
tree,  silently  watched  them  enter  the  car  and  drive 
away. 

As  in  his  experience  of  the  morning  on  Clifton 
Heights,  when  the  crimson  splendor  of  the  dawn  had 
been  darkened  and  shut  away  from  him,  so  now  he 
became  suddenly  conscious  that  across  life's  June 
time  sky  there  had  drifted  a  threatening  cloud,  mak- 
ing the  future  portent  with  shadows. 


128  .    A  VINEYARD    STORY 

CHAPTER   14 

"A    FOOL    IN    THE    FOREST" 

WITH  THE  sensation  of  one  having  experi- 
enced a  sudden  and  unexpected  loss,  Rob- 
ert stood  perfectly  still  until  the  motor  car 
had  whirred  away  with  its  two  occupants  and  passed 
out  of  sight  in  the  distance;  then,  instead  of  going 
into  the  cottage,  he  turned  and  walked  away  under 
the  shadow  of  the  elms,  crossed  the  street  a  block 
below,  and  turned  again  with  scarce  a  conscious 
thought  of  the  direction  his  footsteps  were  tending, 
but  going  directly,  nevertheless,  toward  the  wooded 
ravine  where  he  and  Janey  had  wandered  so  many 
times  the  summer  before,  and  which  now  offered 
him  the  seclusion  and  quiet  he  most  desired. 

Without  any  interruption  he  reached  the  outskirts 
of  the  town  and  followed  the  winding  path  that  led 
to  the  cool,  restful  retreat  by  the  spring.  On  the  low 
embankment  just  above  it  grew  a  little  knot  of  wild 
crab  apple  trees,  and  beneath  them  Robert  dropped 
down  on  the  soft  turf  and  gave  himself  over  to  sober 
reflection,  to  an  analysis  of  his  emotions,  and  to  a  re- 
view of  events  which  had  led  up  to  the  present  sit- 
uation. 

"In  the  name  of  common  sense,  what's  the  matter 
with  me?"  was  his  first  wrathful  declaration,  as  he 
leaned  carelessly  back  against  one  of  the  stubby  lit- 
tle trees  and  idly  plunged  his  pocketknif  e  into  a  half 


"  'That  so?  The  plans  must  be  far-reaching,'  suggested 
Robert,  looking  up  with  frank  admiration  at  his  young 
friend,  standing  so  straight  and  slim  and  determined  before 
him,"  (See  page  140.) 


"A   FOOL  IN   THE    FOREST"  129 

disclosed  root  that  zigzagged  along  the  surface  of  the 
ground.  "And  that  crazy  Gibson  ought  to  have  bet- 
ter sense  than  to  think — "  He  paused.  Light  was 
dawning  in  his  mind,  very  perceptibly  disclosing  the 
motive  for  a  number  of  Billy's  actions  that  Robert 
had  never  quite  accounted  for.  In  the  first  place  he 
had  always  wondered  why  Billy  had  elected  to  come 
to  Clifton  City  College  the  winter  before  when  there 
were  just  as  good  and  even  better  schools  of  its  kind 
much  nearer  his  own  home — places,  too,  where  he 
had  either  relatives  or  acquaintances  living  who  had 
offered  him  special  advantages  if  he  would  but  come. 
By  chance  Billy  had  mentioned  this,  but  he  had  never 
given  any  particular  reason  for  his  choosing  the  col- 
lege he  did. 

Then  there  was  his  visit  to  Banforth  at  the  holi- 
day time,  which  had  puzzled  Robert.  Other  things,  in 
a  small  way,  too,  had  occurred  which  had  made  him 
wonder,  and  lastly  there  had  been  his  undue  impa- 
tience to  leave  the  moment  college  closed  and  get 
back  to  Banforth  to  attend  to  that  important  busi- 
ness for  his  uncle.  It  was  all  clear  enough  now — 
these  events,  coupled  with  Billy's  always  noncommit- 
tal statements  with  reference  to  the  inmates  of  the 
brown  cottage,  and  especially  of  Janey,  and  with  a 
sinking  heart  Robert  recalled  to  memory  the  exceed- 
ing good  spirits  with  which  the  young  man  had  re- 
turned from  his  vacation.  His  mind  leaped  forward 
at  once  to  the  possibilities.  Could  it  be,  he  wondered, 
that  matters  had  already  been  settled,  and  that  be- 
fore he  had  become  fully  aware  of  the  state  of  his 
VS— 9 


130  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

own  feelings  towards  Janey,  another  had  slipped  in, 
and  he  was  but  waking  from  his  all  absorbing  dreams 
and  ambitions  to  find  her  gone  forever? 

There  followed  this  revealment  quick,  jealous 
thoughts.  Had  Billy  discovered  Robert's  regard  for 
the  girl  even  before  he  had  been  fully  aware  of  it 
himself  and  purposely  set  about  to  defeat  him?  he 
questioned.  Under  the  guise  of  friendship  had  he 
kept  thus  silent  and  secretly  connived  to  make  that 
friendship  a  barrier  to  his  advances?  A  hundred 
questions  and  suspicions  like  these  flashed  through 
his  brain,  a  multitude  of  mingled  emotions — anger, 
pride,  jealousy,  envy,  pain — surged  through  his 
heart.  For  a  little  while  hatred  and  its  kindred  pas- 
sions gained  the  ascendancy.  Then  came  shame  at 
the  thoughts  and  feelings  so  unworthy  of  himself 
and  of  his  friend.  With  it  came  the  calmer  feelings 
natural  to  one  who  has  always  been  accustomed  to 
reason  closely  and  weigh  well  before  passing  judg- 
ment. Carefully  he  went  back  over  everything  since 
their  acquaintance.  The  first  link  in  the  chain  of 
evidence  which  vindicated  his  friend  was  the  fact 
that  when  Billy  had  chosen  to  come  to  Clifton  City 
College  he  scarcely  knew  even  of  Robert's  existence, 
if  at  all,  much  less  his  personal  affairs,  and  since  they 
had  met,  so  far  as  any  action  or  expression  of  his  was 
concerned,  Billy  could  never  have  had  any  reason  to 
suspect  they  would  be  rivals. 

With  this  saner  and  more  kindly  reasoning,  was 
the  dismissal  at  once  of  suspicious  thoughts  and  a  re- 
newal of  confidence  in  his  friend.  Well  he  knew  that 


"A   FOOL  IN   THE   FOREST"  131 

frank,  open-hearted,  generous  Billy  would  never 
stoop  to  an  unprincipled  act  to  win  his  way.  It  must 
ever  be  an  open  field  and  a  fair  game.  Every  act  of 
his  that  year  had  manifested  strictly  honorable  prin- 
ciples. On  the  other  hand,  Robert  was  keenly  aware, 
sensed  fully,  that  in  this  new  development  of  circum- 
stances, the  young  man  who  had  swung  up  to  his 
side  in  the  half-mile  race  and  so  freely  allowed  him 
first  honors,  would  in  nowise  hold  back  and  wait  for 
him  in  this  instance.  They  would  stand  as  man  to 
man,  and  Billy  would  run  to  win.  Robert  would 
think  less  of  him  if  he  did  not,  and  would  not  wish 
it  to  be  otherwise. 

But  as  he  reviewed  matters  further,  he  soon  saw 
that  there  were  barriers  in  the  way  of  his  entering 
into  an  even  race.  The  odds  were  against  him,  and 
he  could  see  in  a  trice  the  unhappy  situation  in  which 
he  was  placed.  In  every  way  he  was  indebted  to  his 
friend.  All  the  year  through  his  warm  room  and 
abundance  of  books  had  been  at  Robert's  disposal — 
as  free  as  the  air  dispensed  by  nature.  Billy  had 
oftentimes,  as  in  that  memorable  half-mile  race,  ac- 
corded him  first  place  in  the  honors,  and  unselfishly 
gloried  in  his  victories  and  triumphs.  Again,  he  had 
risked  his  life  to  save  the  little  sister,  as  he  still 
fondly  called  her,  whose  artless  companionship  and 
tender  affection  had  been  a  great  factor  in  his  boy- 
hood life  and  whose  confidence  in  him  was  still  a  sup- 
port and  stay.  Last  of  all,  he  recounted,  there  was 
the  loan  which  Billy  had  insistently  made  him,  with- 
out note  or  interest.  Surely  there  was  nothing  left 


132  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

for  him  to  do.    No  way  he  could  move  and  move  hon- 
orably. 

And  as  if  Fate  had  left  nothing  undone  in  her  at- 
tempt to  thwart  his  hopes  and  purposes,  she  held  up 
before  him  now  a  contrast.  Were  it  possible  to 
sweep  away  all  these  other  obstacles,  these  barriers 
that  had  so  suddenly  reared  themselves  before  his 
mind,  and  there  remained  an  open  field  to  enter,  what 
had  he  to  offer  in  return  for  the  gift  he  asked? 
Nothing,  he  told  himself;  worse  than  nothing.  At 
present,  debt,  and  a  life  of  toil,  privation,  possibly 
hardship  and  sacrifice  if — he  paused  here  as  he  al- 
ways paused  when  that  thought  was  forced  upon 
him — if  the  words  spoken  to  him  in  the  prayer  meet- 
ing the  year  before  were  of  import  and  he  should  be 
called  to  occupy  in  the  ministry  of  the  church  as  his 
father  had  been.  He  had  reluctantly  conceded  in  his 
heart  months  ago  that  they  were  true  and  that  he 
should  prepare  for  that  service,  but  with  all  the  ex- 
periences of  his  own  past  life  before  him,  and  many 
of  his  mother's,  he  knew  what  it  would  mean  to  the 
girl  who  might  consent  to  share  the  future  with  him. 
No  handsome,  trim  built  motor  cars  would  be  his  to 
offer,  like  the  one  which  had  gone  whirling  away 
from  the  brown  cottage  less  than  an  hour  ago 
through  the  sweet-scented  air  of  the  bright  June 
afternoon.  An  occasional  ride  in  a  serviceable  little 
roadster  would  be  the  best  he  could  hope  to  provide, 
perhaps  not  even  that,  and  it  would  be  years  before 
he  could  earn  sufficient  for  a  home. 

And  the  other — what  had  he  to  offer?    Everything 


"A   FOOL  IN   THE   FOREST"  133 

— pleasure,  happiness,  wealth,  the  power  to  place  in 
her  possession  all  the  beautiful  things  of  life  in  which 
the  heart  of  a  woman  delights ;  and,  for  his  own  part, 
one  capable,  as  Robert  verily  believed,  of  as  true- 
hearted  love  and  devotion  as  any  woman  might  wish, 
and  as  only  an  honorable  and  true  man  can  offer.  He 
was  forced  to  admit  this,  even  though  for  the  mo- 
ment he  would  have  been  secretly  glad  if  it  were  not 
so,  and  thereby  some  of  his  scruples  be  removed. 

There  came  then  in  the  wake  of  all  this  reveal- 
ment  a  fuller  and  clearer  sense  of  his  loss.  Weeks 
before  when  the  decision  had  been  made  that  he 
could  not  return  to  college  the  coming  fall,  there  was 
a  very  tangible,  comforting  thought  in  looking  for- 
ward to  the  associations  the  year  at  home  would 
bring,  a  pleasant  compensation  for  his  sacrifice. 
Shocked  was  he  now  to  discover  further  that  no- 
where in  the  long  future  which  stretched  ahead  of 
him  had  he  left  her  out  of  his  plans,  but  that  her 
sympathy  and  companionship  had  been  woven  into 
all  his  dreams. 

Robert  sighed  audibly,  and  leaning  back  against 
the  scrubby  tree  again,  drew  his  cap  low  over  his 
forehead  and  closed  his  eyes,  shutting  out  the  bright 
sunlight  and  beauty  of  a  world  all  out  of  harmony 
with  his  own  gloomy  thoughts.  For  a  long  time  he 
sat  thus,  hands  thrust  into  his  pockets,  his  brain  re- 
viewing the  entire  matter  over  and  over  again,  each 
time  finding  new  difficulties  for  himself,  and  each 
time  discovering  new  points  of  vantage  for  his 
friend. 


134  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

"I'm  a  fool,  that's  all,"  he  at  last  declared  audibly, 
"a  downright  miserable  fool,  and  no  mistake.  Luck 
never  comes  'my  way — but  I  wish  I  had  the  year  to 
live  over  again." 

"  'A  fool,  a  fool!    I  met  a  fool  i'  the  forest, 
A  motley  fool;   a  miserable  world! 
As  I  do  live  by  food,  I  met  a  fool; 
Who  laid  him  down  and  bask'd  him  in  the  sun, 
And  rail'd  on  Lady  Fortune  in  good  terms.'  " 

A  clear  voice  broke  the  quiet  around  him  at  this 
moment,  trilling  out  this  apt  quotation,  from  the 
lines  of  "As  you  like  it,"  with  an  abruptness  startling 
the  young  man  so  perceptibly  as  to  cause  his  cap  to 
fall  forward  upon  the  grass  and  roll  down  the  em- 
bankment. It  escaped  a  plunge  in  the  waters  of  the 
stream  below  through  the  medium  of  a  quick  brown 
hand  thrust  out  to  impede  its  progress.  The  same 
hand  raised  it  and  placed  it  atop  of  her  own  mass  of 
rumpled  locks,  while  the  other  still  held  securely 
across  one  arm  and  shoulder  long  sprays  of  the  wild 
rose  vine  filled  with  fragrant  pink  blossoms. 

"Lu  Warren,  you'd  startle  a  dead  man  out  of  his 
grave,"  Robert  declared  testily,  somewhat  discon- 
certed and  vexed  at  this  sudden  shaking  up  of  his 
thoughts,  and  looking  rather  blankly  down  at  the 
blithe  little  figure  on  the  ledge  of  rock  below  him. 
So  intense  had  been  his  feelings  that  it  seemed  to 
him  for  a  moment  his  whole  heart  and  thoughts  had 
been  revealed  to  the  world. 

"Oh,  I  would,  would  I?  You  are  mistaken,  Sir 
Knight.  I  can  be  accused  of  doing  nothing  more 


"A   FOOL   IN    THE    FOREST"  135 

miraculous  than  startling  a  fool  out  of  his  folly,  and 
rescuing  his  cap  at  the  same  time  from  a  watery 
grave." 

"Startling  him  in  his  folly,  would  be  nearer  the 
truth  than  out  of  it,  I  imagine,"  Robert  replied,  get- 
ting up  from  his  cramped  position  and  beginning  to 
descend  to  the  ledge  of  rocks  where  she  stood. 

"A  nice  way  for  you  to  act  when  you  come  home 
from  college,"  she  chided.  'Tall  into  a  spell  of  the 
dumps  first  thing  and  go  moping  off  somewhere 
without  coming  to  see  your  friends.  Dear  me!  I 
have  no  use  for  an  education  if  that's  all  it  does  for 
one.  Here  we've  just  been  pining  around  for  the 
last  week  to  see  you,  and  Ned  fairly  had  a  spasm 
when  he  heard  at  dinner  that  you'd  come  in  on  the 
morning  train.  He  rushed  right  off  at  once  on  the 
hunt  for  you,  but  lo — you  had  vanished,  and — — " 

"And  you  alone  have  been  successful  in  the 
search,"  Robert  finished,  stepping  down  upon  the 
rock  beside  her  and  transferring  the  cap  from  her 
head  to  his.  "Thanks  for  the  heroic  act  of  rescue. 
I'm  doubly  grateful  since  it's  a  new  one." 

"Yes,  I  found  the  wild  roses  I  was  looking  for," 
Lu  answered,  indifferently,  sniffing  at  the  fragrant 
blossoms  with  unfeigned  admiration,  "and  then,  too, 
in  my  wanderings  after  them  I  discovered  a — a — 
fool,  according  to  his  own  statement." 

"And  according  to  others'  opinion  as  well,  I  dare 
say,  if  politeness  permitted  them  to  give  expression 
to  their  thoughts." 

"A  fool   did  I   say?"   Lu  queried,   shifting  her 


136  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

weight  to  the  other  foot  and  studying  his  face  with 
mock  seriousness.  "Nay,  I  have  erred  in  judgment; 
for  this  strange  creature  speaketh  wisdom.  Mother 
always  avers,  and  repeats  the  proverb  on  occasion 
to  a  too  sagacious  son  or  daughter  that '  Tis  the  fool 
doth  think  he  is  wise,  but  the  wise  man  knoweth  him- 
self to  be  a  fool.'  " 

"A  useful  proverb,  no  doubt,"  said  Robert,  with  a 
twinkle  in  his  eye;  "one  worth  remembering.  But 
now  do  you  suppose  Ned  has  returned  by  this  time?" 

"How  should  I  know?"  queried  the  girl,  giving 
him  one  of  those  customarily  shrewd  glances,  as  was 
her  wont  when  he  asked  for  her  brother.  "It's 
more  than  probable  that  he's  still  frantically  run- 
ning to  and  fro  searching  for  one  of  the  lost  sheep 
of  Israel,  or  a  stray  collegiate  roaming  about  in  the 
wilderness.  Think  of  it !  A  perfect  June  afternoon 
like  this!  How  a  man  can  get  moody  and  sour  on 
such  a  day  is  past  my  comprehension." 

"All  well  enough  so  far  as  the  day  is  concerned, 
but  a  fellow's  state  of  mind  doesn't  always  hang  on 
the  weather." 

"Then  you  must  be  hungry.  Haven't  they  been 
feeding  you  well?  Say,  you  do  look  thin.  I'll  take 
you  home  and  give  you  something  to  eat.  How's 
strawberries  and  cream,  for  instance?" 

"Sounds  even  better  than  blackberry  pies.  Will 
you  accompany  them  with  a  sermon?" 

"No.  I  told  you  last  summer,  in  the  blackberry 
patch,  I'd  preached  my  last  sermon.  I'll  never  at- 
tempt another  unless  it's  on  a  heathen.  'A  prophet 
is  not  without  honor — '  you  know  the  rest." 


"A   FOOL  IN   THE   FOREST"  137 

"A  preacher  must  not  work  for  praise  or  honor," 
Robert  declared.  "Haven't  you  learned  that  fact 
yet?  But  strawberries  and  cream  sound  pretty  good 
to  me,  and  perhaps  we  had  better  end  Ned's  fruitless 
search.  Shall  we  be  going?" 

He  offered  an  assisting  hand  to  help  her  from  the 
rock  and  across  the  gurgling  water  of  the  ravine, 
which  recent  rains  had  swollen  to  the  proportions 
of  a  small  creek ;  but  the  girl  only  laughed  in  child- 
ish scorn  of  his  proffer  and  went  skipping  across 
the  rocks  with  the  lightness  and  surety  of  foot  born 
of  a  life  of  activity  and  freedom. 

As  the  two  neared  the  street  which  ran  past  the 
brown  cottage  Billy  and  Janey  were  just  returning 
from  their  ride,  and  by  the  time  they  reached  the 
gate  the  car  with  its  one  occupant  had  gone  and 
Janey  had  entered  the  house.  Ned,  working  at  the 
fence  of  the  pasture  lot  which  bordered  that  edge 
of  the  town,  saw  and  hailed  them,  and  Robert  turned 
into  the  by-street  and  went  down  to  where  he  was. 

Lu  went  thoughtfully  into  the  kitchen  to  fill  vase 
and  bowl  with  cool  water  and  arrange  her  sprays  of 
pink  beauties.  She  had  already  surmised  the  trouble 
that  was  brewing,  and  thought  she  discerned  a 
reason  for  Robert's  downcast  spirits. 

"Well,  I  said  last  winter  he  was  a  fool,  but  he's 
been  a  long  time  finding  it  out.  Billy's  ahead,  from 
all  appearances,  and  the  outcome  looks  mighty 
dubious  for  poor  Robert." 

"My,  how  lovely  those  roses  are !"  exclaimed  Janey, 
coming  leisurely  into  the  kitchen  at  that  moment, 


138  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

"and  such  a  lot  of  them,  too.  Shall  I  help  you  ar- 
range them?" 

"Surely.  This  vase  is  such  an  awkward  shape,  I 
wish  you'd  arrange  some  for  it.  I  never  can  get  them 
to  look  as  artistic  as  you  do.  This  one  suits  me  bet- 
ter. Look!  isn't  this  vine  a  beauty?" 

"Lovely,"  replied  the  older  sister,  half  absently 
sorting  over  the  mass  and  selecting  some  of  the 
smaller  sprays  for  the  receptacle  in  question.  "Who 
was  that  coming  along  the  street  with  you,  Lu?"  she 
queried  after  a  moment,  in  an  indifferent  manner. 

Neither  the  tone  nor  the  indifference  escaped  the 
wise  Lu,  as  she  answered  quite  carelessly:  "When? 
Oh,  just  a  little  while  ago  do  you  mean?  Why,  Rob- 
ert, of  course.  Didn't  you  recognize  him?  I'll  admit 
he's  changed  some,  but  not  enough  to  require  an  in- 
troduction. These  colleges  always  put  a  sort  of 
shine  on  that  agrees  with  some,  while  with  others  it 
doesn't  exactly  harmonize.  Guess  those  are  the  ones 
that  only  get  a  little  smearing  over  the  surface  and 
it  doesn't  run  deep.  Robert  isn't  that  kind." 

"Why  didn't  he  come  in?" 

"Stars  and  stockings!  how  am  I  to  account  for  a 
man's  notions  ?  What  merely  feminine  persuasion  do 
you  suppose  could  prevail  upon  him,  with  Ned  in 
sight  down  at  the  pasture  fence?  I  even  offered  him 
strawberries  and  cream,  and,  thin  as  he  is,  he  never 
stopped  to  think  of  it  again  after  discovering  the 
whereabouts  of  Ned.  Did  you  ever  see  two  such 
cronies?" 

Janey  made  no  answer  to  this  interrogation,  but 


"A   FOOL   IN    THE    FOREST"  139 

the  twig  she  was  trying  to  bend  to  the  proper  angle 
snapped  at  that  instant  and  she  cast  it  aside  to  look 
for  another  more  to  suit  her  fancy. 

"I  suppose  they'll  be  in  soon,"  she  commented  after 
a  few  moments,  and,  seeming  suddenly  to  have  lost 
interest  in  the  wild  vines  and  blossoms,  turned  and 
left  the  room. 

.  "I  do  declare  to  goodness  what  a  bungle  she  has 
made  of  that  bouquet!"  exclaimed  the  girl  as  soon  as 
her  sister  had  disappeared  through  the  doorway  and 
her  steps  could  be  heard  ascending  the  stairway.  "Fm 
not  an  artist,  but  I'll  vow  I  can  beat  you  this  time. 
Well,  never  mind,  but  run  along,  sister  mine,"  she 
soliloquized,  "you  can  get  a  good  view  of  the  corner 
of  the  pasture  from  the  north  window  upstairs/  If 
'twas  anyone  else  on  earth  but  you  I'd  say  it  served 
you  right." 

Whether  Janey  made  use  of  the  vantage  point 
which  had  suggested  itself  to  her  sister's  mind  must 
be  left  to  conjecture,  since  the  door  to  that  room  was 
closed  when  Lu  went  through  the  hall  a  short  time 
later,  and  even  her  intrepid  courage  failed  to  investi- 
gate. Nevertheless  Robert  did  not  come  back.  The 
long  sunny  hours  passed  swiftly  to  him  and  Ned  as 
they  visited  in  the  shady  corner  of  the  pasture  lot, 
and  work  and  care  for  a  time  were  almost  wholly 
forgotten. 

"I  can  hardly  believe  it,"  Ned  declared  after  they 
had  talked  for  a  time,  "that  I  am  so  near  through 
high  school.  In  my  circumstances  what  a  mountain- 
ous task  it  looked  to  begin  with.  Now  only  another 


140  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

year  remains  and  when  I  get  through  with  it  I'll  be 
just  as  anxious  for  college  work  as  I  was  for  this — 
and  I'm  going  to  get  it,  too,"  he  added  with  determi- 
nation. "I  used  to  think,"  he  laughed,  "when  I  was 
small,  that  if  I  ever  got  a  high  school  education  I'd 
be  perfectly  satisfied.  Now  it  seems  like  I've  only 
made  a  start." 

"Going  to  begin  right  away  as  soon  as  school  work 
is  finished?"  Robert  inquired  with  unfeigned  interest 
as  he  sat  on  a  huge  stump,  diary  in  hand,  to  which 
he  had  been  making  frequent  references  as  they 
talked. 

"If  I  can.  It  seems  to  me  it's  the  quickest  way  to 
help  the  family.  I'd  like  to  take  a  course  in  stenog- 
raphy first  and  use  it  to  earn  my  way  through." 

"And  where  do  you  expect  to  go  ?  Is  the  heart  still 
set  for  Graceland  as  it  was  a  year  ago?" 

"Yes,  I  think  it  shall  be  Graceland.  I've  somehow 
never  felt  that  it  could  be  any  other  place,  since  I 
came  into  the  church.  It  sort  of  fits  into  my  plans 
better,"  he  added. 

"That  so?  The  plans  must  be  far-reaching,"  sug- 
gested Robert,  looking  up  with  frank  admiration  at 
his  young  friend,  standing  so  straight  and  slim  and 
determined  before  him. 

"I  ought  not  to  mention  them  yet;  they're  not 
matured  enough,"  Ned  said,  slowly.  "I've  never 
spoken  of  them  before — "  he  paused,  "but  I  will 
tell  you,  Robert,  because  I  know  you  won't  laugh  at 
me.  I  used  to  think  before  I  joined  the  church  that 
there  was  only  one  way  of  service,  that  is,  you  know 


"A   FOOL   IN   THE   FOREST"  141 

what  I  mean,  which  counted  as  real  service  to  the 
Lord.  I  have  a  different  viewpoint  now.  One  kind 
of  honorable  work  is  as  acceptable  as  another,  pro- 
vided it's  the  thing  He  wants  you  to  do.  I  have  no 
great  talent.  I  belong  to  the  mediocre  sort ;  I  could 
never  be  a  speaker  as  you  are,  nor  a  shining  light 
in  the  church  as  you  will  some  day  be ;  but  I  made  a 
solemn  covenant  when  I  was  baptized  to  give  Him  the 
best  I  am  capable  of.  My  ambition  lies  along  the  line 
of  teaching.  I  like  it  better  than  anything  else.  The 
few  times  I  have  acted  as  substitute  for  some  of  the 
grades  here  in  our  school  has  made  me  sure  of  that. 
Graceland  was  built  for  the  young  people  of  the 
church.  She  always  needs  financial  aid;  but  she 
needs  as  well  the  support  and  help  of  the  young  peo- 
ple, and  those  who  are  willing  to  sacrifice  for  her 
sake.  I  shall  go  there  and  receive  of  her  benefits, 
and  when  I  have  qualified  myself  shall  in  turn  offer 
my  services." 

"Ned,  this  is  great.  You  make  me  ashamed  of  my- 
self. You  are  far  more  willing  to  give  of  yourself 
than  I  have  been.  It  seems  to  me  there  is  no 
broader  field  than  that  of  a  teacher.  I'd  like  it  my- 
self. I  hope  you'll  be  able  to  carry  out  your  plans, 
and  if  you  do,  our  Graceland  College  will  be  the 
richer  for  your  having  been  its  benefactor.  Some  of 
the  rest  of  us  selfish  ones  would  not  have  thought  of 
it.  We  think  only  of  what  we  get,  forgetting  what 
we  should  return." 

"It's  been  away  down  in  my  heart  all  these 
months,"  Ned  went  on.  "As  you  may  imagine,  it's 


142  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

far  from  what  I  planned  years  ago.  I  want  to  help 
mother  and  Lu  and  Madeline,  and  pay  Janey  back  for 
some  of  the  help  she  has  given  me,  and  if  we  are  com- 
fortable that's  all  I  want.  My  dreams  used  to  be  for 
lots  of  money  and  great  positions.  That  doesn't  ap- 
peal to  me  any  more.  I've  never  had  much  money,  so 
guess  I  won't  miss  it.  By  the  way,  that  makes  me 
think  of  Billy's  good  fortune.  Have  you  heard  of  it?" 

"No,  I  haven't,"  replied  Robert,  his  spirits  sink- 
ing as  a  gloomy  shadow  of  misgiving  overcast  him. 
"What  is  it  ?" 

"His  uncle  has  secured  for  him  the  position  of  as- 
sistant cashier  in  the  Banf  orth  Savings  Bank  and  he 
begins  work  next  Monday.  Did  you  ever  see  such  a 
lucky  fellow?" 

"Never!" 


THE    BATTLE    UNDER   THE    STARS  143 

CHAPTER  15 

THE  BATTLE  UNDER  THE  STARS 

THE  SUN  was  dropping  low  in  the  west,  its  last 
beams  touching  only  the  tops  of  the  taller 
trees  in  the  pasture  lot,  and  the  shadows  were 
momentarily  growing  heavier  over  the  long,  cool 
tangled  grass  and  scrubby  undergrowth,  when  at  last 
the  two  youths  searched  out  their  own  docile-eyed 
Jerseys  from  among  the  small  herd  that  daily 
browsed  in  the  pasture,  and  drove  them  out  into  the 
lane.  Here  again  they  loitered  to  rehearse  another 
and  still  another  incident  of  the  past  year  before 
they  finally  separated  and  turned  their  steps  toward 
their  respective  homes.  It  was  almost  dark  when 
Robert  came  driving  the  sleek  little  bossy  up  the 
alley  to  the  back  of  the  lot  and  found  Mamie  perched 
on  the  top  of  the  yard  gate,  milk  pail  in  hand,  impa- 
tiently awaiting  his  return. 

"Where  have  you  been  all  this  time,  Robert?  I 
thought  you'd  never  come/'  She  had  sprung  down 
from  her  perch  and  ran  to  open  the  gate  as  she  as- 
sailed him  with  this  sisterly  reproof  in  a  hurt  tone 
the  young  man  was  quick  to  detect.  "We  have  seen 
you  scarcely  at  all  to-day.  I  suppose  you've  been  at 
the  brown  cottage,  but  you  might  have  let  me  go  with 
you  the  first  time.  Don't  you  realize  that  you  have 
been  away  from  us  nearly  ten  months?" 

"It's  a  downright  shame,  Mamie,  to  run  off  as  I 


144  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

did,  but  you  and  mother  were  busy,  and  I  really  had 
no  intention  of  staying  so  long.  You  shall  go  with 
me  next  time/'  Robert  replied,  as  he  drove  the  cow 
into  the  lot  and  to  the  narrow  milking  stall.  "How- 
ever," he  added  a  trifle  bitterly,  as  he  closed  the  gate 
and  pulled  the  milking  stool  down  from  its  place  on 
the  fence,  "I  wasn't  at  the  brown  cottage  this  after- 
noon. Started  there,  it  is  true,  but  got  sidetracked. 
Saw  Lu  a  little  while,  then  met  Ned,  and  we  had  a 
long  visit  together  down  in  the  pasture  lot.  We  must 
have  started  out  with  our  cows  nearly  an  hour  ago, 
but  couldn't  get  through  talking.  But  never  mind, 
little  sister,  I'll  be  home  all  the  year,  and  there'll  be 
heaps  of  time  to  tell  you  everything  that's  happened 
since  I  went  away,  and  you  mustn't  mind  my  running 
off  to  hunt  up  all  my  old  friends  whom  I  haven't  seen 
for  such  a  long  time." 

"Of  course  it's  all  right,"  Mamie  returned,  much 
mollified  at  this,  "but  you've  been  gone  so  long  I'm 
a  bit  jealous  of  every  friend  who  claims  a  minute  of 
your  time  on  this  first  day.  You  can't  imagine  how 
hard  it  has  been  for  mamma  and  me  sometimes  while 
you  were  away,  and  it's  so  glorious  for  you  to  be 
home  again  I  can't  think  of  anything  else.  Besides, 
you  know,  our  daddy  will  soon  be  gone  for  a  whole 
year  again,  and  he  wants  to  be  with  you  all  he  can 
before  he  leaves,"  she  added,  climbing  back  to  her 
former  position  on  the  gate,  and  watching  him 
through  the  dim  light  as  his  strong  hands  sent  the 
milk  into  the  pail  in  steady,  abundant  streams. 

"That's  true,"  her  brother  replied,  "and  I'll  hurry 


THE    BATTLE    UNDER   THE    STARS  145 

with  the  milking  so  we  can  have  a  good  talk  yet  this 
evening,  and  the  rest  of  this  week  he  shall  have  all 
my  thought  and  time  if  he  wants  it.  Has  he  fully  de- 
cided to  go  next  Monday,  or  do  you  think  we  can 
persuade  him  to  stay  a  little  longer?" 

"Our  daddy  has  set  the  time  for  Monday,  Tuesday 
at  the  very  latest,  and  you  know  how  he  always  is 
when  he's  once  made  up  his  mind/'  replied  Mamie. 
"He  gets  restless,  feels  that  he  is  needed  in  his  field, 
and  that  it  is  his  duty  to  be  there.  I  think  he'll  go 
then,  but  he  wants  a  talk  with  you  this  evening,  and 
was  disappointed  when  you  didn't  come  home 
earlier." 

"There  are  a  lot  of  things  I  must  ask  him  about 
before  he  goes.  For  my  part,  I  can't  see  what  we  are 
going  to  do  without  him  here  in  the  church  work. 
Has  anybody  been  provided  for  us  yet?" 

An  answer  did  not  come  immediately.  With  her 
arms  clasped  tightly  around  the  tall  post  at  the  gate's 
side,  and  her  chin  resting  on  the  top,  the  girl  sat  in- 
tently gazing  upward  at  the  vast  firmament  above. 

"There  is  nothing  definitely  settled,  I  believe,"  she 
spoke  slowly  after  the  pause,  as  if  her  mind  were 
afar  off,  "and  we  don't  know  just  what  will  be  done. 
Do  look  up  at  the  stars,  Robert!  Did  you  ever  see 
so  many  in  your  life?  The  big  bear  I  never  could 
trace,  but  do  look  how  bright  the  seven  sisters  are! 
Surely  as  said  Tennyson,  they  do  'glitter  like  a 
swarm  of  fireflies  tangled  in  a  silver  braid.'  The 
sky  to-night  is  like — like — oh,  I  wish  I  were  a  poet 
and  could  make  beautiful  comparisoi 
VS— 10 


146  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

"As  for  instance/'  began  her  brother  teasingly, 

"Twinkle,    twinkle,    little    star, 
How  I  wonder  what  you  are, 
Up  above  the  world  so  high, 
Like    a    diamond " 

"Oh,  Robert,  you  spoil  all  my  sentiment  with  your 
silly  little  ditty,"  exclaimed  the  girl,  springing  down 
again  and  trying  to  shake  his  strong  shoulders  which 
were  bent  to  their  light  task. 

"Look  out !  You'll  make  the  cow  kick  the  pail  and 
us  both  over  if  you're  not  careful;  then  there'll  be 
another  milky  way,  and  we'll  see  stars  without  look- 
ing at  the  heavens — myriads  of  them.  I  thought  it 
was  poetic  comparisons  you  wanted,"  Robert  replied, 
balancing  himself  once  more  on  the  milk  stool  and 
proceeding  with  his  work  as  she  released  him. 

"So  it  was — and  not  a  nursery  rhyme.  Indeed,  do 
you  realize  that  I  am  not  such  a  little  sister  as  I  once 
was?  I'm  in  high  school,  finished  junior  year,  if 
you  please,  and  I'll  listen  to  nothing  less  than  Shake- 
speare or  Tennyson." 

"Oh,  ho!  Listen  to  the  conceit!  Hardly  shall  I 
be  able  to  satisfy  such  demands,  for  on  the  spur  of 
the  moment  I  can  recall  nothing  but  a  single  sentence 
from  Shakespeare  in  one  of  my  old  grammars, 

"Night's  candles  are  burnt  out,  and  jocund  day 
Stands  tiptoe  on  the  misty  mountain  tops." 

"How's  that?" 

"Not  good  at  all.  It  doesn't  fit  the  occasion. 
'Night  candles'  are  getting  brighter  every  minute." 


THE    BATTLE    UNDER    THE    STARS  147 

"Very  well,  then,  will  a  quotation  from  Byron  sat- 
isfy? Here's  this: 

"Ye  stars;  which  are  the  poetry  of  heaven, 
If  in  your  bright  leaves  we  would  read  fate 
Of  men  and  empires — 'tis  to  be  forgiven, 
That  in  our  aspirations  to  be  great, 
Our  destinies  o'erleap  their  mortal  state, 
And  claim  a  kindred  with  you;  for  ye  are 
A  beauty  and  a  mystery,  and  create 
In  us  such  love  and  reverence  from  afar, 
That  fortune,  fame,  power,  life,  have  named  them- 
selves a  star." 

"Wonderful,  and  perfectly  in  harmony  with  a 
night  like  this,"  she  applauded,  watching  at  the  same 
moment  with  an  absorbed  gaze  for  the  reappearance 
of  a  tiny  far  distant  star  which  flashed  out  now  and 
then  but  dimly.  "Have  you  any  more  like  that?" 

"All  heaven  and  earth  are  still — though — not  in  sleep," 

continued  the  brother, 

"But  breathless,  as  we  grow  when  feeling  most; 
And  silent,  as  we  stand  in  thoughts  too  deep: — 
All  earth  and  heaven  are  still:  From  the  high  host 
Of  stars,  to  the  lulled  lake  and  mountain  coast, 
All  is  concenter'd  in  a  life  intense, 
Where  not  a  beam,  nor  air,  nor  leaf  is  lost, 
But  hath  a  part  of  being,  and  a  sense, 
Of  that  which  is  of  all  Creator  and  defense." 

"Will  that  suffice?"  he  asked  as  he  finished  the 
stanza  and  the  milking  at  the  same  time  and  rising, 
gave  the  stool  a  toss,  back  to  its  place  on  the  fence. 
"Assuredly  little  sisters  do  grow  up,  don't  they?"  he 
exclaimed  in  some  surprise  as  he  stood  beside  her 


148  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

and  measured  her  height  even  with  his  shoulder. 
' 'Why,  Mamie,  you've  surely  grown  a  lot  in  the  last 
year.  Do  you  expect  to  be  as  tall  as  your  big 
brother?" 

"Never.  I  can't  hope  to  compete  with  him  in  size, 
physical  or  mental,  ever,  but  I  intend  to  let  him 
know  that  I  always  expect  to  claim  a  part  of  his  time 
and  attention/' 

Robert  laughed,  caught  up  the  pail  with  one  hand, 
his  sister's  arm  with  the  other,  and  together  they 
went  to  the  house,  his  mood  happier,  his  spirits  com- 
forted. 

They  kept  up  a  gay  little  conversation  at  the  sup- 
per table,  the  brother  and  sister,  and  if  Robert  even 
noticed  the  shade  of  anxiety  which  rested  on  his 
mother's  face,  and  the  fact  that  his  father  was  un- 
duly grave,  and  both  unusually  quiet,  he  would  have 
thought  nothing  of  it,  for  the  time  of  his  father's  de- 
parture was  fast  approaching,  and  he  would  easily 
have  attributed  it  to  that.  But  as  they  arose  from 
the  table  Mr.  Clayton  spoke  to  him  in  his  customary 
mild  manner,  yet  with  a  touch  of  gravity  which 
struck  Robert  with  import: 

"I  received  a  letter  a  day  or  two  ago,  my  boy,  from 
the  missionary  in  charge  of  this  section  of  the 
country.  He  will  be  here  next  Saturday,  he  says,  to 
arrange  with  regard  to  the  work  in  this  place  for 
the  coming  year  during  my  absence  in  the  West.  His 
letter  concerns  important  matters  and  I  would  like 
you  to  read  it." 

Robert  felt  a  sudden  chill  of  dread  and  misgiving 


THE    BATTLE    UNDER   THE    STARS  149 

pass  over  him.  He  paused  a  moment  before  replying : 

"Has  he  arranged  for  anyone  to  come,  and  is  he 
some  one  we  know?  I  hope  he  can  send  us  somebody 
who  can  be  here  most  of  the  time." 

"He  has  some  one  in  mind,  I  believe,"  replied  his 
father  in  a  deliberate  manner.  "You  can  judge  when 
you  read  his  letter  as  to  whether  you  will  be  satis- 
fied with  his  arrangements  and  the  suggestion  he 
makes  as  to  the  individual  he  expects  to  take  charge. 
Perhaps  we  had  better  go  into  the  sitting  room.  Here 
is  the  letter." 

'Mrs.  Clayton  and  Mamie  in  silence  began  clearing 
the  table,  and  the  mother  with  hands  a  trifle  un- 
steady stacked  the  dishes  in  order  at  the  sink.  The 
two  men  passed  into  the  adjoining  room  where  Mr. 
Clayton  sat  down  on  the  couch,  and  Robert,  dropping 
into  a  rocking  chair,  took  the  letter  from  its  en- 
velope and  read: 

"Dear  Brother  Clayton:  Since  the  appointments 
made  at  the  General  Conference,  and  your  conse- 
quent assignment  to  the  West,  the  providing  of  a 
man  to  take  charge  of  the  work  in  your  home  town 
and  vicinity  has  been  constantly  upon  my  mind.  Your 
explanation  of  affairs  as  they  exist  at  the  present 
time,  and  the  specific  needs  and  demands,  have 
caused  me  to  give  the  matter  special  and  prayerful 
attention.  I  placed  my  hand  here  and  there  in  the 
hope  of  finding  a  man  whom  I  could  send  to  your  dis- 
trict, but  was  disappointed  in  every  respect — each 
and  all  seemed  to  be  needed  more  in  other  fields.  Up 
until  last  night  I  had  found  no  available  man,  and  as 


150  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

yet  had  received  no  special  direction  of  the  Spirit  as 
to  what  should  be  done. 

"Early  this  morning,  however,  as  I  lay  awake 
thinking  it  over,  there  came  clearly  to  my  inner  con- 
sciousness a  manifestation  of  God's  will  concerning 
the  work  you  have  asked  me  to  look  after ;  also  there 
was  plainly  pointed  out  to  my  mind  the  man  who 
should  take  charge  of  it. 

"With  regard  to  this  individual,  you  will  remember 
when  I  name  him,  that  I  have  had  but  little  personal 
acquaintance  with  him — none  of  late  years.  A  few 
years  ago,  when  he  was  but  a  boy  fifteen  or  sixteen 
years  of  age,  I  met  him  at  a  district  conference.  I 
recall  that  at  that  time  the  distinct  impression  of  the 
Spirit  came  to  me  that  he  would  some  day  be  called 
to  the  work  as  a  minister  for  Christ.  When  the 
Spirit  directed  my  attention  to  him  again  this  morn- 
ing I  recalled  the  impression  of  a  few  years  ago  con- 
cerning the  boy. 

"You  may  be  able  to  conjecture  by  this  time  whom 
I  have  in  mind ;  if  not,  I  wish  to  say,  with  the  firm 
conviction  which  can  be  conveyed  to  a  man  only  by 
the  direct  manifestation  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  that  your 
son,  Robert  Clayton,  is  called  to  the  office  of  elder, 
and  if  he  shall  be  willing  to  accept  the  responsibili- 
ties of  such  office,  a  branch  shall  be  organized  in 
Banforth  and  he  be  placed  in  charge.  This  need  not 
necessarily  interfere  with  his  secular  work,  as  he 
can  look  after  the  branch  work  Sundays  and  do  such 
work  in  the  vicinity  as  he  shall  have  time. 

"I  know  not  in  what  light  you  will  consider  this, 


THE    BATTLE    UNDER   THE    STARS  151 

neither  do  I  know  as  to  how  the  young  man  will  re- 
gard it,  having  had  so  little  acquaintance  with  him; 
but  I  do  know  that  the  clear  indications  of  the  Spirit 
to  me  are  that  he  is  fitted  for  the  place,  and  it  is  the 
Lord's  desire  he  should  so  occupy. 

"I  write  this  morning  that  you  and  your  son  may 
have  the  matter  under  consideration  until  I  reach 
you  on  Saturday,  and  hope  that  he  may  be  able  to  de- 
termine his  course  by  that  time,  and  if  favorable,  we 
shall  organize  the  branch  next  Sunday  and  get  things 
in  working  order  before  you  leave,  as  I  feel  you 
would  appreciate  being  present  at  his  ordination. 

"Trusting  that  the  Spirit  may  speak  as  clearly  to 
your  minds  as  it  has  done  to  mine,  leaving  no  room 
for  uncertainty,  I  am 

"Your  brother  in  the  faith, 
"C.  L.  VENTON,  Missionary  in  Charge." 

The  sheets  fluttered  away  from  Robert's  nerveless 
fingers.  He  lifted  his  head  to  meet  his  father's 
searching  gaze  and  arose. 

"It  must  be  a  mistake.  I  cannot  accept  it  yet,"  he 
said  tensely.  "I  am  too  young,  and,  in  my  judgment, 
unprepared.  Besides,  there  are  other  things  I  wish 
to  do  first.  I  have  always  said  to  myself  that  I  could 
never  enter  the  missionary  work  until  I  had  first 
earned  enough  for  a  home  and  sufficient  to  provide 
my  family,  if  I  should  ever  have  one,  with  some 
of  the  comforts  of  life.  I  have  felt  that  I  never  could 
depend  upon  the  church  for  every  cent  that  I  needed. 
I  am  too  independent  for  that." 

"Your  present  local  work  will  not  interfere  with 


152  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

your  earning  and  laying  up  in  store.  This  will  re- 
quire only  a  portion  of  your  time." 

"Even  so,  but  it  may  mean  a  greater  requirement 
at  any  time,  a  fuller  service.  I  grant  you  that  I 
have  felt  for  some  time  that  I  would  be  called,  but  I 
do  think  the  time  is  not  now." 

"Is  it  that  you  think  so,  or  that  you  do  not  want  it 
so?"  his  father  queried,  his  eyes  calm,  yet  very  con- 
siderate and  kind.  "Which  is  it,  my  son?" 

The  young  man  winced.  "I  think  I  realize  my  own 
lack  of  preparation  as  no  one  else  can,"  he  evaded. 
"The  call  has  come  too  soon.  I  am  not  ready  to  re- 
ceive it.  Honestly,  do  you  not  think  so?" 

"That  shall  be  left  entirely  for  you  to  determine, 
my  boy.  You  know  as  well  as  I  how  to  obtain  a  sure 
knowledge  for  yourself.  The  main  thing  is  that  you 
will  be  willing  to  accept  whatever  that  knowledge 
shall  make  plain.  It  is  best  that  I  say  no  more  and 
leave  it  for  you  to  decide,  lest  in  the  future  you  say 
of  me,  'My  father  influenced  me  unduly  to  take  this 
step  before  I  was  ready,  and  his  will  overruled  mine.' 
No,  make  your  own  decision,  as  we  all  must,  leaving 
my  opinion  entirely  out  of  the  question.  I  shall  allow 
myself  to  make  but  this  one  more  statement  in  the 
matter.  I  have  learned  that  the  Lord  knows  better 
who  is  old  enough  and  who  is  sufficiently  qualified 
to  do  his  work  than  we  do.  That  is  all." 

Robert  answered  not  a  word,  but  turning  to  the 
door  went  out  of  the  house  into  the  cool  night  air. 
As  had  been  his  habit  from  childhood,  that  when  un- 
der any  stress  or  perplexity  of  mind  he  had  sought 


THE    BATTLE    UNDER    THE    STARS  153 

comfort  and  relief  from  the  great  outdoor  world 
where  nature  could  administer  to  him  her  own 
soothing  balm,  so  to-night  he  went  out  alone,  and 
under  the  great,  wide  canopy  of  heaven,  studded 
with  its  illimitable  number  of  twinkling  worlds, 
sought  to  fight  out  his  battle,  on  the  result  of  which 
depended  all  his  future  course  in  life,  and  may  we 
not  also  conclude,  the  future  course  of  many  another 
whose  life  was  yet  to  come  in  touch  with  his  in- 
fluence? 

Shall  I  pause  here  and  enter  into  the  details  of  that 
conflict  as  it  waged  in  the  heart  of  the  young 
man  that  night?  Need  I  attempt  to  tell  of  all  those 
assailing  doubts  and  fears,  the  uppermost  desires, 
the  Tempter's  wily  suggestions,  and  the  Spirit's  gen- 
tle pleading?  Oh,  tried  and  valiant  veterans  of  truth 
and  of  righteousness,  who  long  ago  in  youth  made 
your  decision,  and  enlisting  in  the  cause  of  Christ, 
buckled  on  "the  whole  armor  of  God,"  have  you  for- 
gotten one  least  part  of  that  struggle?  Though 
years  may  have  intervened  since  you  moved  bravely 
out,  clasping  in  one  hand  the  wonderful,  invincible 
shield  of  faith,  in  the  other  the  powerfulsword  of  the 
Spirit,  yet  need  I  portray  before  you  to-day  this  con- 
flict of  soul  as  fought  out  by  Robert  that  night  under 
the  stars?  Shall  I  presume  to  open  the  gateway  of 
that  scene  to  your  mental  vision  ?  of  this  young  man 
in  the  power  and  strength  of  his  youth,  in  the  spring- 
time of  his  ambitions  and  dreams,  in  the  pride  of  his 
young  manhood  wrestling  to  lay  all  upon  the  altar  of 
sacrifice?  On  the  one  hand  he  hears  the  call  of  the 
Master  as  it  came  long  ago  to  the  fishermen  by  the 


154  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

sea:  "Come,  leave  all,  and  follow  me.  Abide  no 
longer  in  selfish  contentment  by  the  cool  deep  waters 
of  fair  Galilee ;  but  come  with  me  up  rugged,  thorny 
steeps,  'cross  burning  deserts,  and  through  parched 
places  of  my  vineyard,  that  they  who  suffer  may  re- 
ceive of  the  water  of  life  and  thirst  no  more."  On 
the  other  hand  the  Tempter  whispers:  "I  ask  you 
not  to  give  up  the  bright  dreams  of  success  for  me, 
the  pleasures  of  life,  nor  the  homage  of  men,"  and 
with  his  world-age  tempting  power  insidiously  adds, 
"All  these  will  I  give  thee,  if  thou  wilt  but  do  my 
bidding." 

Ah,  no,  faithful  servants  of  the  Master,  you  know 
it  well — the  struggles  of  that  hour,  that  night — or 
was  it  days  and  weeks  that  passed  before  you  dared 
to  say,  "I  am  ready  to  put  on  the  whole  armor  and 
answer  as  a  minuteman  to  his  call,  though  it  take  me 
to  the  uttermost  parts  of  his  vineyard"? 

No,  I  cannot  open  up  one  phase  or  point  out  one 
detail  that  would  be  new  to  your  experience.  And 
you  have  learned,  too,  since  then,  that  the  conflict  is 
not  ended  in  a  day  or  a  night,  a  month  or  year,  but 
that  even  many  times  there  may  come  a  renewal  of 
it  until  you  have  fully  learned  the  lesson, 

"There  can  be  no  furlough  granted, 
Never  must  the  flag  be  furled." 

And,  you,  young  man  or  young  woman,  who  may 
not  as  yet  have  reached  this  supreme  test,  when  there 
shall  come  to  you,  as  there  comes  to  every  individual 
who  makes  covenant  with  God,  the  requirement  of 
your  full  service,  a  kind  of  service  that  may  per- 


THE    BATTLE    UNDER    THE    STARS  155 

chance  be  not  of  your  choosing  and  one  which  at 
the  time  may  seem  to  deny  you  your  fondest  am- 
bitions, remember  the  results  of  that  decision  will 
not  affect  your  life  only.  It  must  needs  be  a  hin- 
drance or  an  inspiration  to  those  whose  lives  your 
own  shall  touch.  God's  purposes  and  designs  worked 
out  in  you  mean  the  working  out  of  his  purposes  and 
designs  in  others  to  the  extent  of  your  influence 
among  them.  Your  failure  to  fulfill  his  purposes  no 
measure  of  worldly  success  or  honor  can  requite — 
no  gain  can  equal  its  loss.  For  think  as  we  will  and 
plan  as  we  may,  no  ambition  can  bring  us  greater 
success  than  that  which  comes  of  simple,  humble 
service  to  God ;  no  work  can  be  so  great  for  us  to  per- 
form as  the  one  designed  of  him  we  shall  do, 
whether  it  shall  be  a  work  beheld  and  seen  of  many, 
or  one  obscure  and  humble,  mayhap  unnoticed  save 
by  the  Christ  himself. 

Who  climbs  to  the  highest  pinnacle  of  this  world's 
renown,  finds  at  last,  as  the  Alpine  traveler  scaling 
the  frozen  and  dizzy  heights,  naught  but  bareness 
and  bleakness  at  the  top ;  but  he  who  climbs  his  Sinai 
with  steady  step  and  unswerving  purpose,  leaving 
behind  him  in  the  valley  below  the  multitude  with 
its  foolish  cant  and  acclaim,  its  frivolity  and  idola- 
try, will  find  awaiting  him  at  the  crest  the  radiant 
face  of  his  Maker,  and  receive  his  full  reward  in  the 
crowning  glory  of  his  presence. 

So  the  night  passed  away,  and  when  the  soft  glow 
spreading  over  the  east  bade  the  numberless  host  of 
twinkling  lights  vanish  silently  in  the  misty  miracle 


156  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

of  approaching  day,  Robert  arose  from  his  grassy 
couch,  and  coming  out  from  under  the  heavy  shad- 
ows of  the  great  basswood  tree,  crossed  the  yard  and 
entered  the  house.  Passing  the  sitting  room  door  he 
caught  sight  of  the  dim  outlines  of  a  figure  in  his 
mother's  favorite  rocker,  and  went  in. 

"Mother  of  mine/'  he  whispered  as  he  came  near, 
"mother  of  mine,  have  you,  too,  watched  the  night 
out  with  me?" 

"I  have  watched  the  night  out  with  you,  my  boy." 

He  knelt  beside  her  chair  and  placed  his  head  in 
her  lap  as  he  had  been  wont  to  do  when  a  little  child, 
and  felt  the  soothing  touch  of  her  cool  fingers 
through  his  heavy  locks. 

"You  should  not  have  done  it.  You  have  fought 
your  battles.  I  am  a  man  and  must  fight  mine." 

"Ay,  and  so  must  everyone  fight  his  own,  but  a 
mother  may  not  sleep  while  her  boy  fights." 

There  was  a  long  silence;  then  stooping  low,  she 
pressed  the  dark  head  close  to  her  and  whispered, 
"And  is  the  battle  ended?" 

"Not  yet,  mother  mine,"  he  answered,  lifting  his 
eyes  to  meet  her  earnest  gaze,  "not  yet;  but  it  is 
fairly  begun." 


"THE   FOOLISHNESS   OF  PREACHING"         157 
CHAPTER  16 

"THE    FOOLISHNESS    OF    PREACHING" 

THAT  CLEAR,  starlit  night,  so  memorable  in 
the  history  of  two  or  three  individuals,  was 
followed  by  a  moody  and  tempestuous  day, 
beginning  with  a  strong  east  wind  and  fast  gather- 
ing clouds,  which  soon  resulted  in  frequent  and  heavy 
bursts  of  wind  and  rain,  settling  finally  about  noon 
into  a  steady  and  quiet  downpour. 

After  the  chores  and  outside  work  were  done,  Rob- 
ert spent  the  remainder  of  the  morning  in  his  own 
room,  unpacking  his  trunk,  which  had  not  been 
brought  from  the  station  until  late  the  evening  be- 
fore, and  otherwise  putting  his  room  in  order.  Mamie 
sat  on  the  floor  beside  the  trunk,  or  helped  him  ar- 
range his  books  in  their  places  on  the  shelves,  and 
listened  with  happy  contentment  as  he  told  and  re- 
told incident  after  incident  of  college  life  which  some 
pennant,  scrap  of  paper,  or  chance  souvenir  brought 
to  mind.  There  were  no  happier  moments  and  hours 
to  her  than  these — moments  and  hours  when  little 
confidences  were  exchanged  between  the  brother  and 
sister  whose  thoughts  and  ideals  had  always  drifted 
in  the  same  channels,  and  whose  spirits  were  in  sweet 
accord.  They  were  the  most  treasured  moments  of 
her  life,  for  there  existed  nothing  of  greater  value 
in  her  eyes  than  his  full,  unbounded  confidence. 
And  as  for  that  which  he  might  choose  to  withhold 


158  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

for  a  time,  that  of  which  he  was  not  yet  ready  to 
give  expression,  as  his  experience  of  the  night  be- 
fore, with  intuitive  understanding  she  carefully 
avoided  in  their  conversation,  willing  to  await  the 
time  she  knew  would  surely  come  when  he  would 
relate  it  all  of  his  own  volition. 

So  the  morning  passed  swiftly  and  happily  enough 
to  her,  and  after  dinner  Robert,  exhausted  and 
wearied  from  his  long  vigil  of  the  night,  threw  him- 
self upon  his  couch,  and  while  the  rain  beat  its 
ceaseless  tattoo  upon  the  roof,  or  dripped  ryth- 
mically  from  the  eaves,  he  slumbered  heavily  and 
restfully  through  the  long  hours  of  the  afternoon. 
Not  till  the  gay  little  painted  cuckoo  bobbed  out  from 
its  hiding  place  in  the  old-fashioned  clock  in  the 
living  room  and  announced  in  its  croaky  tones  a 
late  hour  did  he  awaken  to  find  the  dusk  of  the  eve- 
ning gathering  about  him,  and  low  against  the  hori- 
zon a  narrow  streak  of  mingled  crimson  and  gold 
indicated  the  clouds  and  storm  of  the  day  were  past 
and  gave  promise  of  a  fairer  to-morrow. 

The  following  morning  Robert  arose  early,  and 
soon  after  breakfast  walked  down  town  on  an  er- 
rand to  the  grocery  and  for  the  morning  mail.  The 
nightmare  of  the  preceding  day  seemed  to  have  van- 
ished with  the  passing  of  the  clouds  and  storm.  He 
felt  renewed  and  invigorated  after  his  long  rest,  and 
the  fresh,  rain-washed  earth  smiled  back  at  him 
from  moist  grasses  and  dripping  trees.  The  clear, 
clean  atmosphere,  the  gay  carols  of  the  little 
feathered  tree  dwellers,  the  warmth  and  sunlight 


"THE   FOOLISHNESS   OF  PREACHING"         159 

sent  his  spirits  up  with  that  elastic  rebound  which 
is  the  heritage  of  the  young. 

With  quick,  energetic  step  he  walked  into  the 
grocery  to  leave  an  order,  and  coming  immediately 
out  again,  paused  in  front  of  the  store  to  read  an  at- 
tractive poster  in  the  window.  As  he  stood  there 
the  wind  whipped  suddenly  around  the  corner,  carry- 
ing very  distinctly  a  portion  of  the  conversation  of 
a  couple  of  loiterers — conversation  not  intended  for 
his  ears: 

"Fine  fellow  that  Clayton.  Brainiest  young  man 
in  town." 

"Guess  you're  right.  Remarkably  fine,  but  I've  no 
use  for  his  religion." 

"No.  Funny  how  one  of  his  intellect  will  hang 
on  to  a  church  like  that — poor  and  unpopular  as  it 
is." 

"They  say  he's  even  likely  to  be  a  preacher — 
and " 

"You  don't  say!  What  a  pity — such  a  waste  of 
good  material.  It  looks  like — — " 

Becoming  suddenly  aware  of  his  position  as  eaves- 
dropper, and  failing  to  further  concentrate  his 
thoughts  upon  the  poster,  Robert  hurried  away  and 
went  across  to  the  post  office.  He  found  it  almost  de- 
serted, the  mail  having  been  distributed  some  time 
before.  The  sole  occupant  of  the  front  part  was  a 
broad-shouldered,  rather  stout  individual  of  middle 
age  who  stood  writing  at  the  money  order  window, 
hat  set  well  back  upon  his  head,  his  back  toward  the 
entrance.  A  traveling  salesman  from  all  appearances, 


160  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

was  Robert's  thought  as  he  walked  past  him  to  the 
other  window  and  called  for  his  mail.  As  he  was 
about  to  pass  back  again  the  man  turned  around. 

"As  I  live,  Mr.  Fendon!"  Robert  exclaimed  with 
sudden  recognition  of  one  of  the  well-to-do  mer- 
chants of  his  old  home  town,  Fairfield,  a  member 
also  of  the  branch  of  the  church  at  that  place.  "What 
good  luck  has  happened  to  bring  you  to  Banforth?" 

"The  good  luck  of  a  change  of  scene  and  oppor- 
tunity to  get  out  and  away  from  the  store/'  re- 
sponded the  man,  grasping  the  younger  one's  hand 
with  a  hearty  shake.  "Robert,  I'm  delighted  to  see 
you.  Didn't  you  know  I'd  been  on  the  road  for  nearly 
a  year?" 

"Indeed  I  did  not,"  responded  Robert,  and  then 
added  as  he  gave  him  a  comprehensive  glance:  "It 
seems  to  have  agreed  with  you ;  you're  much  stouter 
than  when  I  last  saw  you." 

"You're  right  it  has,"  declared  the  man,  "and 
that's  my  reason  for  leaving  and  going  on  the  road 
for  a  while.  Too  confining  in  the  store  and  my  health 
was  going  down  all  the  time.  Thought  a  change 
would  do  me  good,  so  started  out.  Banforth  hap- 
pens to  be  in  my  territory,  and  we  haven't  met  be- 
fore because  you  have  been  away.  I  hear  great  re- 
ports of  you,  though,  Robert,  and  by  the  way,  I 
judge  they  must  be  true,  since  it  happened  to  be  my 
good  fortune  to  call  at  Clifton  City  at  an  opportune, 
time  last  winter.  That  was  a  great  speech  of  yours 
in  the  debate.  I  never  heard  a  better  in  my  life." 

"You  there!"  exclaimed  Robert  in  surprise.     "I 


"THE   FOOLISHNESS   OF   PREACHING"         161 

hadn't  an  idea  in  the  world  that  any  of  my  old 
friends  from  Fairfield  were  in  that  audience  " 

"So  I  was,  though,  and  I'd  have  waited  to  speak 
to  you,  but  it  was  only  a  few  minutes  after  the  close 
of  the  debate  till  my  train  was  due,  and  I  knew  from 
the  pandemonium  that  reigned  among  your  friends 
it  would  be  a  good  half  hour  before  I  could  get  to 
you.  I  had  to  run  to  catch  it  as  it  was,"  he  laughed 
good-naturedly,  "but  it  was  worth  a  good  run,  even 
for  a  fat  man,  that  last  speech  of  yours." 

"Thank  you,"  Robert  replied,  and  then  turned  the 
subject  by  inquiring  about  friends  and  acquaintances 
in  his  old  home  town.  In  a  corner  of  the  room  they, 
sat  talking  for  some  time  of  the  changes  that  had 
occurred  since  the  Clayton  family  had  left  Fair- 
field  and  moved  to  Banforth,  then  tipping  comfort- 
ably back  in  his  chair,  Mr.  Fendon  suddenly  and 
quite  unexpectedly  launched  seriously  into  a  new 
topic : 

"Robert,  I've  just  recently  heard  a  rumor  about 
you,  and  having  been  a  member  of  this  church 
a  good  many  years,  I  am  inclined  to  fear  that  it  is 
true.  Our  church  seems  to  have  a  habit  of  picking 
up  our  most  promising  looking  young  men  and  mak- 
ing preachers  of  them.  I  heard  that  there  was  a 
probability  of  your  being  ordained  and  set  to  work 
here." 

Robert  flushed,  looked  away  for  a  moment,  and 
then  answered  briefly:  "The  report  is  true;  I  have 
been  asked  to  accept  ordination." 

"Stuff    and    nonsense!"     exclaimed    the    other. 
VS— 11 


162  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

"Don't  allow  them  to  mollycoddle  you  like  that.  A 
fellow  of  your  ability  can't  afford  to  spend  his  time 
preaching.  A  mere  folly.  Let  somebody  else  do 
that  and  you  go  climbing  on  up  where  you  belong. 
Why,  boy,  you  can't  afford  to  do  it.  Let  the  fellows 
do  it  that  want  to  and  are  not  fit  for  something 
else." 

It  was  the  Tempter  back  again,  this  time  in  the 
new  guise  of  a  friend  and  brother  in  the  church,  and 
the  young  man  was  silent. 

"Don't  throw  yourself  away  like  that,"  the  man 
continued.  "It's  all  very  well  for  us  to  sacrifice  and 
do  our  part  in  the  church  work,  but  it's  a  very  fool- 
ish thing  for  you  to  give  everything  up  right  now, 
your  plans  and  ambitions — oh,  yes,  I  know  you  have 
them,"  he  added,  "and  all  your  old  friends  have  pre- 
dicted a  bright  future  for  you." 

Very  seldom  did  flattery  have  any  effect  upon 
Robert's  well-balanced  mind,  but  it  had  been  show- 
ered upon  him  from  every  side  for  weeks  past,  and 
now  coming  from  this  successful  business  man  and 
old  friend,  a  brother  in  the  church,  and  one  whose 
opinion  he  had  always  held  in  high  esteem,  the  praise 
carried  unusual  weight,  the  advice  strongly  influ- 
enced, especially  since  it  was  so  much  in  harmony 
with  his  own  desires.  The  old  conflict  came  back 
with  renewed  force  and  power.  Again  it  was  the 
Tempter  saying,  "All  these  will  I  give  thee,  if  thou 
wilt  bow  down  and  worship  me." 

It  must  be  stated  in  justice  to  Mr.  Fendon  that 
he  was  sincere  in  the  belief  that  he  was  giving  a 


"THE   FOOLISHNESS  OF   PREACHING"         163 

young  man  sound  advice.  The  other  side  of  the 
question  had  a  very  impractical  aspect  to  him,  a 
sure  barrier  to  success  as  he  viewed  it,  and  he  had 
a  real  desire  to  see  the  youth  make  choice  that 
would  bring  him  the  best  the  world  had  to  of- 
fer. The  motives  which  prompted  him,  therefore, 
sprang  from  friendly  interest,  not  necessarily  from 
motives  of  evil,  though  misguided  they  may  have 
been.  And  so  he  continued  to  talk  and  advise  until 
a  long,  shrill  whistle  signaled  the  fact  that  the 
morning  passenger  train  was  approaching  town. 

"My  train!"  he  exclaimed,  rising  hastily  to  his 
feet,  "and  I  must  be  going  at  once.  Yes,  my  trunks 
and  valises  are  all  at  the  depot,"  he  added,  in  an- 
swer to  Robert's  inquiry.  "The  station  agent  said 
the  train  was  at  least  an  hour  late,  so  I  came  back 
up  town.  Glad  now  I  did  and  chanced  to  have 
this  visit  with  you.  Good-by,  and  remember  what 
I've  said.  It's  good  advice,  and  don't  let  these  over- 
zealous  people  carry  you  off  and  tie  you  to  some- 
thing you'll  always  regret  and  can't  get  away  from." 
And  with  a  hasty  but  hearty  handshake  he  hur- 
ried away  to  the  depot. 

Left  alone,  Robert  stood  idly  looking  out  from 
the  post  office  window,  pondering  over  again  all 
the  new  arguments  and  suggestions  which  the  con- 
versation had  brought  up  in  his  mind.  If  he  were 
fitted  for  greater  things,  why  accept  this  humble 
position?  If  he  had  the  ability  they  credited  him 
with,  why  keep  it  within  the  narrow  confines  of  his 
own  church?  Why  not  broaden  out  and  make  his 


164  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

gifts  and  accomplishments  of  service  to  the  world 
at  large?  Could  he  not  do  greater  work  for  man- 
kind than  in  the  narrower  field?  The  world  needed 
educators,  high  idealists,  efficient  lawyers,  honest 
statesmen.  Broad  fields  were  open  to  the  young 
man  who  chose  to  aspire.  By  entering  them  could 
he  not  serve  both  the  church  and  the  world?  Was 
it  not  the  greatest  field  after  all?  Many  a  good 
man  or  woman,  he  told  himself,  had  accomplished 
more  in  philanthropic  movements  and  great  enter- 
prises than  could  a  mere  minister  who  might  con- 
vert a  few  souls  to  the  gospel. 

Standing  thus  idly  by  the  window  and  deeply 
absorbed  in  his  own  thoughts,  Robert  took  little 
note  of  outward  scenes  or  passers-by  until  a  cer- 
tain familiar  figure  stepped  out  of  a  near-by  store 
and  crossed  the  street  to  one  on  the  other  corner. 
The  light  shone  in  clearly  through  the  large  win- 
dow of  the  store,  and  from  where  Robert  stood 
he  could  watch  her  make  the  few  simple  purchases 
which  evidently  completed  her  shopping  list,  for  as 
she  came  out  again  she  turned  down  the  street  which 
led  toward  the  brown  cottage.  Twice  he  laid  his 
hand  on  the  knob  of  the  screen  door,  twice  he  hesi- 
tated, then  acting  upon  the  impulse  of  the  mo- 
ment went  out,  and  walking  quickly  overtook  her 
before  she  had  reached  the  end  of  the  block. 

"Too  many  packages  for  one  to  carry.  Shall  I  re- 
lieve you  ?"  he  asked,  as  he  reached  her  side. 

She  started  perceptibly  and  one  of  the  bundles 
dropped  at  her  feet. 


"THE   FOOLISHNESS  OF   PREACHING"         165 

"Entirely  too  many,  I  agree  with  you,"  she  re- 
plied with  a  confused  little  laugh,  "though  none  of 
them  are  big  enough  to  be  burdensome.  As  many 
packages  as  purchases  seems  to  be  my  luck,  for 
when  mother  sends  me  down  town  to  buy  goods  or 
trimming,  to  match  thread  or  lace  patterns,  it  is 
usually  necessary  to  go  to  every  store." 

"You  should  have  pockets,  or  else  carry  a  shop- 
ping bag,"  he  rejoined,  stuffing  the  small  articles 
here  and  there  in  his  pockets. 

"It's  too  warm  for  a  jacket,"  she  .replied,  "and 
I  don't  like  shopping  bags." 

"There,  isn't  that  better?"  he  asked,  as  having 
disposed  of  the  last  one  he  took  the  sunshade  from 
her  hand.  "Is  your  mother  in  need  of  these  things 
at  once  that  we  must  walk  home  by  way  of  this 
hot,  sunny  street?  Or  may  we  take  the  longer, 
shadier  one?" 

Without  waiting  for  her  assent  Robert  directed 
her  toward  the  latter  and  they  walked  along  for 
a  few  moments  in  silence  in  the  coolness  of  the 
shadowy  elms  whose  great  arms  stretched  grace- 
fully above  them.  In  and  out  amid  their  dark  green 
foliage  flitted  the  little,  bright-eyed,  feathered,  peo- 
ple, too  intent  upon  their  work  of  home-making  and 
home-keeping  to  give  but  a  curious  glance  at  their 
passing. 

"This  town  is  certainly  in  her  glory  to-day,"  he  re- 
marked at  last.  "Other  places  may  be  more  pre- 
tentious, but  with  her  grand  old  native  trees  and 


166  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

her  orchards  Banforth  can't  be  beaten  in  June  time 
for  real  beauty/' 

"Really,  I'm  surprised  to  hear  you  acknowledge 
it.  I  thought  you  had  become  so  enamored  of  Clif- 
ton City  you'd  never  be  able  to  break  away  from 
it,  and  would  find  little  of  interest  in  our  quiet  place 
again,"  replied  Janey. 

"Clifton  City  is  all  right,  and  it  was  hard  to  leave/' 
he  assented,  "but  I'm  glad  enough  to  be  at  home 
and  among  my  friends  here  once  more." 

"You  didn't  seem  especially  anxious  to  come  back 
or  to  see  them,"  the  girl  rejoined,  lightly. 

"Perhaps  some  do  not  seem  to  care  particularly," 
he  retorted  quickly,  "being  more  interested  in  oth- 
ers." On  the  instant  he  would  have  been  glad  to  re- 
call the  words  if  he  could  have  done  so ;  they  sounded 
mean  and  cowardly. 

"I — I  don't  understand,"  she  began;  then  with  a 
sudden  comprehension  and  a  little  flash  of  anger, 
added,  "I  know  of  no  reason  why  they  shouldn't  be. 
Anyhow  it's  of  no  consequence  to  anyone  else.  Our 
friendships  need  not  be  narrowed  to  a  few." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  apologized  with  contri- 
tion. "I  had  no  right  to  speak  in  that  way." 

There  was  an  awkward  pause  as  they  walked  in 
silence  a  short  distance.  Nevertheless,  the  constraint 
did  not  continue  long,  for  somehow,  in  spite  of  mis- 
understanding, doubts,  and  misgivings,  it  was 
broken,  the  old  comradely  feeling  returned,  and 
they  were  soon  discussing  school  problems  and  col- 
lege life  as  freely  as  they  had  ever  done. 


"THE   FOOLISHNESS  OF   PREACHING"         167 

Even  the  very  longest  street  in  town  may  not  prove 
long  enough  under  some  circumstances.  If  not,  a 
little  by-lane  may  lend  cheerful  aid  in  lengthening 
out  the  distance,  especially  if  it  runs  off  through  a 
quiet  portion,  perchance  toward  daisy-bedecked 
meadows,  and  possibly  with  a  convenient,  old-fash- 
ioned stile  at  its  termination.  It  was  fortunate 
enough  that  Mrs.  Warren  was  not  in  a  hurry  for  the 
thread  and  sundry  parcels  of  silk  and  braid  that 
morning,  else  some  dress  might  have  been  delayed 
and  an  irate  customer  accuse  her  of  not  keeping  a 
promise.  Having  utterly  forgotten  such  inconse- 
quential matters,  and  heedless  of  the  passing  of  time, 
the  two  sat  on  the  old  stile  and  talked.  Apologizing 
for  his  failure  to  call  at  the  brown  cottage  the  day 
before,  Robert  had  gradually  though  hesitatingly  led 
the  conversation  up  to  the  subject  which  had 
weighed  so  heavily  upon  his  mind  since  reading  the 
letter  his  father  had  handed  him  two  evenings  be- 
fore, and  of  the  problem  which  still  awaited  his  de- 
cision and  concerning  which  the  talk  in  the  post  office 
that  morning  had  again  thrown  him  into  a  state  of 
perplexity.  Little  by  little  he  told  her  something  of 
his  struggle  and  conflict,  his  uncertainty  and  his  in- 
decision, while  she  sat  above  him  on  the  top  step 
with  now  and  then  only  a  brief  question  or  a  mur- 
mured assent  in  response.  Even  as  he  related 
it  the  whole  matter  semeed  less  momentous — 
the  sacrifice  and  burden,  how  it  had  been  magni- 
fied in  his  own  eyes!  He  felt  her  sympathetic 
attitude  and  yet — had  he  placed  too  much  stress 


168  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

on  the  thought  of  his  own  ability  and  sacri- 
fice? Not  till  he  was  telling  her  of  the  conver- 
sation of  the  morning  with  Mr.  Fendon,  did  he  be- 
gin to  realize  this  more  keenly ;  then  he  became  aware 
that  he  did  not  wish  to  place  before  her  clear  judg- 
ment some  of  the  arguments  which  the  man  had  used 
and  which  he  must  admit  to  himself  had  affected  him 
seriously.  He  therefore  passed  somewhat  lightly 
over  these ;  nevertheless  the  girl  was  in  no  wise  de- 
ceived. She  discerned  matters  even  better  than  if 
he  had  told  her  all,  and  her  frank,  plain  questions 
now  brought  dismay. 

"And  you  say/'  she  questioned,  her  earnest  brown 
eyes  looking  straight  down  at  his  as  he  sat  on  the 
second  step,  "that  this  man  you  met  in  the  post  office 
this  morning  was  a  Latter  Day  Saint?  Are  you 
sure?" 

"Oh,  yes,  indeed,"  replied  Robert  quickly,  failing 
to  catch  the  import  of  her  meaning.  "He's  been  in 
the  church  a  good  many  years.  I've  known  him  a 
long  time." 

"Well !"  mused  Janey,  as  though  deeply  mystified, 
"yet  you  say  this  man,  a  brother  in  the  church  and 
friend,  told  you  you  were  wasting  your  life — in  other 
words  that  it  was  a  very  foolish  thing  for  you  to  give 
up  things  of  vastly  greater  importance  in  which  you 
might  do  so  much?" 

"He  did,"  admitted  Robert,  a  little  reluctantly. 

"And  he  told  you,  I  infer,  though  you  haven't  ex- 
actly stated  it  that  way,  that  a  person  of  your  capa- 
bilities and  brains  [there  was  a  touch  of  sarcasm 


"THE   FOOLISHNESS  OF   PREACHING"          169 

slipped  in  on  the  latter  word]  might  spend  them  in  a 
better  way  than  preaching." 

"Ye-s,  that's  about  what  he  said,"  Robert  con- 
fessed with  some  confusion.  This  straightforward 
question  coming  from  the  girl,  with  its  veiled  touch 
of  sarcasm,  threw  an  entirely  different  light  upon  it 
than  the  flattering  tones  of  others  had  made  it  ap- 
pear. 

"And  he  carried  the  idea,"  she  queried  persist- 
ently, while  for  the  first  time  he  looked  away  from 
her  searching  gaze,  "that  it  was  all  a  mistake ;  that 
his  wisdom,  and  yours,  was  greater  than  others  in 
making  this  choice,  thereby  casting  a  reflection  on 
the  call?" 

Robert  did  not  answer.  This  f usilade  of  questions 
was  so  entirely  different  from  what  he  had  ex- 
pected that  he  was  confused  and  humiliated; 
ashamed  of  the  egotism  that  had  suffered  him  to  har- 
bor such  thoughts  or  arguments,  even  for  an  instant. 
Their  admonition  brought  to  his  mind  a  warning 
statement  that  had  been  given  him  in  his  blessing: 
"Be  careful,  and  be  admonished  that  when  flatter- 
ing tongues  shall  praise  thee,  to  guard  against  think- 
ing too  highly  of  thyself." 

"I  gather  from  what  you  have  told  me,"  Janey 
went  on  without  regard  for  his  discomfiture,  and 
looking  not  at  him  now  but  at  the  little  group  of  field 
daisies  in  the  corner  of  the  fence,  "that  it  would  be 
the  height  of  folly  for  one  of  your  ability  who  could 
win  honors  from  the  world,  to  spend  your  time  and 
talents  in  this  way  and  for  so  little  material  recom- 


170  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

pense ;  that  the  calling  of  a  minister  was  an  inferior 
one,  and  fit  only  for  others  less  endowed  with  nat- 
ural gifts.  I  have  nothing  to  say  as  to  your  final  de- 
cision, Robert,"  looking  down  at  him  again  and  then 
back  to  the  nodding,  smiling  daisies  in  the  fence  cor- 
ner, "that  is  entirely  your  own  affair ;  but  for  myself, 
I  am  glad  that  God  chose,  through  the  foolishness  of 
preaching,  to  save  humanity.  I  am  glad,"  she  con- 
tinued, "that  the  great  Apostle  Paul  was  willing  to 
lay  aside  worldly  ambitions,  to  give  up  pride  of  caste 
and  creed,  and  listening  to  the  call  of  God,  become 
nothing  more  than  a  humble  servant  of  his  cause  and 
a  preacher  of  righteousness.  He  gave  up  wealth  and 
fame,  as  he  no  doubt  thought,  but  to-day  the  rulers  of 
kingdoms  are  forgotten,  while  his  name  lives  and 
will  still  live  through  all  time. 

"I  am  glad  too,"  she  continued  after  a  short  pause, 
"that  even  the  Christ,  with  his  divine  intellect" — 
Robert  winced — "chose  to  use  it  in  the  service  of 
preaching,  that  his  matchless  mind  conceived  no 
greater  ambition  than  to  utter  the  words  and  do  the 
will  of  his  Father." 

Robert's  face  was  very  white  now.  She  caught 
its  look  of  tense  pain  and  her  tones  softened  a  little, 
though  she  went  relentlessly  on : 

"Personally  I  have  great  reason  to  rejoice  in  the 
fact,  that  in  this  age  there  have  been  men  willing  to 
relinquish  the  world  and  make  the  effort  to  establish 
Christ's  church  once  more,  to  receive  his  word,  to 
heed  his  will,  and  to  lead  mankind  back  into  the  old 
paths.  It  is  the  greatest  thing  in  the  world,  Robert, 


"THE  FOOLISHNESS  OF  PREACHING"          171 

and  to  me  it  seems  there  could  be  no  greater  calling, 
no  higher  honor  than  the  call  of  God  to  perform  a 
specific  part  in  it.  I  should  like  to  ask  that  man 
whom  you  talked  with  this  morning — you  call  him  a 
Latter  Day  Saint — I  shall  not  say  what  I  call  him, 
anyhow  I  consider  him  unworthy  of  that  name — I 
say  I  should  like  to  ask  him  how  it  was  he  was 
brought  to  a  knowledge  of  the  truth  if  not  through 
the  sacrifice  of  others  and  the  preaching  of  the 
word.  I  should  like  to  ask  him  while  he  sits  idly  by 
and  offers  advice " 

"Enough,  Janey,  please  do  not  say  any  more,"  her 
listener  entreated. 

She  stopped  him  with  a  motion  of  her  hand  and 
rising  stepped  down  on  a  lower  step  of  the  stile. 
Robert  arose,  too.  "Just  one  thing  more,"  she  in- 
sisted. "I  shall  never  cease  to  be  grateful  that  your 
father  made  the  sacrifice  he  has  done ;  that  he  con- 
sidered the  cause  worthy  of  his  time  and  his  best 
powers  in  order  that  a  few  of  us  wandering,  rebel- 
lious ones  might  be  led  into  the  kingdom." 

"Worthy  his  time  and  his  best  powers!"  Robert 
looked  up  at  her  as  she  still  stood  one  step  above  him, 
her  face  glowing  with  the  fire  of  deep  feeling  with 
which  her  soul  had  been  stirred,  and  marveled  that 
he  had  ever  considered  the  calling  of  God  as  so  light 
a  thing.  Were  such  souls  as  hers  worthy  the  ef- 
fort? Could  any  reward  or  honor  be  compared  to 
the  bringing  of  such  into  his  kingdom? 

Something  of  these  thoughts,  as  well  as  admira- 
tion of  her  courage,  and  of  his  regard  for  her  shone 


172  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

in  his  eyes  as  she  brought  her  gaze  back  from  the 
distant  meadows  to  his  face,  and  precipitately  she 
changed  the  subject: 

"How  far  the  morning  has  passed!  It  must  be 
nearing  the  noon  hour  and  mother  will  be  needing 
her  thread.  I  have  been  giving  a  dreadful  tirade, 
haven't  I?  It's  easy  enough  to  talk,  you  know,"  she 
said,  smilingly,  "and  very  easy  to  understand  what 
another  should  do.  Take  my  suggestions  for  what 
they  are  worth  and — let  us  be  going." 

Her  sudden  change  of  manner  brought  Robert  to 
himself.  "I  have  no  right  to  encroach  past  mere 
friendship's  lines,"  he  thought.  "She  has  given  me 
to  understand  that  already.  Her  friendship  is  too 
precious  to  risk  a  breaking,  and  it  is  plain  I  need  it. 
There  are  enough  barriers  in  the  way  as  it  is,  and  I 
must  consider  her  happiness,  not  selfishly  my  own." 

With  this  conclusion  he  silently  helped  her  down 
from  the  stile  and  they  turned  their  steps  homeward. 

Robert  stayed  for  dinner  at  the  brown  cottage  and 
disposed  of  the  delayed  but  bountiful  dish  of  straw- 
berries and  cream  Lu  had  promised  him.  Shortly 
after  dinner  he  telephoned  to  Mamie  to  get  her  ten- 
nis racket  and  come  over,  and  Billy,  dropping  in  a 
little  while  later,  the  six  young  people  spent  the  aft- 
ernoon at  the  tennis  courts  in  the  park. 


"LO,  I  AM  WITH   YOU   ALWAY"  173 

CHAPTER  17 

"LO,  I  AM  WITH  YOU  ALWAY" 

ELDER  VENTON,  the  missionary  in  charge,  ar- 
rived at  the  appointed  time,  Saturday.  Two  or 
three  had  given  their  names  for  baptism,  and 
the  ordinance  was  to  be  attended  to  at  an  early  hour 
the  next  day  in  the  creek  near  Farmer  Grayson's. 
Accordingly,  early  Sunday  morning  the  good  farmer 
sent  his  big  team  and  carryall  in  to  take  a  number 
out  who  wished  to  go,  while  Billy  made  two  trips 
with  his  car  for  the  Warrens  and  Claytons,  taking 
part  of  them  back  to  town  as  soon  as  the  services 
were  over,  and  the  remainder  to  his  uncle's  for  din- 
ner, promising  to  drive  in  with  them  in  time  for  the 
afternoon  meeting  which  was  to  be  held  at  Mr.  Clay- 
ton's. This  remainder  consisted  of  Janey,  Mamie, 
Madeline,  and  Ned. 

There  were  few  present  at  that  afternoon  meeting 
besides  the  Saints.  A  sweet,  beautiful  peace  was 
there  from  the  very  beginning,  and  Robert,  who  had 
passed  through  his  long  struggle  and  conquered  at 
last,  when  the  hands  of  the  elders  were  laid  upon  his 
head  in  ordination,  felt  the  overwhelming  power  of 
the  Spirit  envelop  him,  and  with  it  came  the  con- 
firming assurance  that  God  had  recognized  his  sacri- 
fice and  would  fully  compensate  for  all  his  trials.  In 
those  moments  he  realized  as  never  before  the  peace 
which  passeth  understanding  and  the  joy  that  the 


174  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

Holy  Spirit  alone  can  bring.  Before  the  ordination 
was  finished  no  doubts  whatever  were  left  in  his 
mind  with  regard  to  his  calling  and  responsibility. 
The  revelation  of  the  Spirit  came  in  enlightening 
power  and  strong  assurance,  and  he  knew  that  he 
was  "called  of  God  as  was  Aaron,"  and  that  hence- 
forth his  service  was  to  be  that  of  a  minister  of 
Christ's  own  appointing.  To  such  he  testified  to  the 
little  band  of  assembled  Saints  before  the  meeting 
closed,  and  in  the  strength  of  his  humility  mani- 
fested his  worthiness  of  being  their  spiritual  leader. 

The  bright  June  Sabbath  afternoon  drew  towards 
its  close  with  the  hearts  of  the  faithful  little  band 
greatly  comforted,  their  courage  renewed,  and  their 
faith  strengthened. 

Shortly  before  sunset  Billy  received  a  telephone 
call  from  his  uncle  to  return  immediately.  The 
daughter  living  in  the  adjoining  county  was  ill  and 
the  car  was  needed  at  once  to  take  them  to  her  home. 
So  it  chanced  that  in  the  quiet  of  a  beautiful  eve- 
ning Robert  walked  home  with  Janey  by  longest  road 
and  through  quiet  by-lane,  past  the  meadow  where 
the  daisies  were  already  closing  their  pretty  eyes  in 
sleep  as  the  sun  touched  them  gently  with  his  last 
long  rays.  Reaching  at  last  the  little  gate  in  front  of 
the  brown  cottage,  they  loitered  again  till  night 
lighted  all  her  wonderful,  mysterious,  tiny  lamps  in 
the  dome  of  Nature's  great  cathedral. 

The  following  afternoon  Mr.  Clayton  left  for  his 
mission  field  in  the  Northwest.  Robert  and  Mamie 
walked  with  him  to  the  depot,  and  the  older  man's 


"LO,  I  AM   WITH   YOU   ALWAY"  175 

eyes  filled  as  he  took  within  his  own  the  strong, 
young  hand  of  his  son. 

"It  is  well,  my  son;  you  have  chosen  well,  and 
God  will  help  you  bear  all  the  burdens  that  may  be 
laid  upon  you,"  he  murmured.  "He  has  never  failed 
me  in  all  these  years,  and  he  will  not  forsake  you  in 
the  time  of  need.  Do  not  forget." 

"I  shall  try  to  always  remember,"  Robert  replied, 
with  an  answering  pressure,  and  turned  to  comfort 
his  sister  as  the  train  carried  their  father  out  of 
sight. 

It  was  a  day  of  changes  and  readjustments  for 
many  of  our  friends.  Billy  began  his  new  work  in 
the  bank  that  morning,  and  soon  after  his  father 
left,  Robert  and  Ned  walked  out  to  Farmer  Gray- 
son's  to  work  the  remainder  of  the  week  jn  the  har- 
vest field,  the  only  available  work  to  be  found,  and 
Robert  felt  he  could  not  afford  to  rest  another  day. 
Janey  and  Lu  began  sewing,  for  the  following  week 
the  older  sister  must  leave  home  to  attend  summer 
school.  Elder  Venton  was  to  stay  the  rest  of  the 
week,  remaining  over  another  Sunday,  so  Robert 
felt  that  for  the  time  at  least  he  would  be  compara- 
tively free  from  that  burden. 

Plans,  however,  are  subject  to  circumstances.  Sat- 
urday noon  Elder  Venton  received  a  telegram  sum- 
moning him  to  another  part  of  the  field  to  preach  a 
funeral  sermon.  Announcement  for  a  service  to  be 
held  Sunday  evening  had  already  been  widely  circu- 
lated, and  if  he  left  there  would  be  no  one  but  Robert 
to  take  his  place.  The  service  was  to  be  in  the  park, 


176  A    VINEYARD    STOEY 

and  when  Robert  reached  home,  walking  in  from 
Farmer  Grayson's  after  a  hard  week's  work  in  the 
field,  that  Saturday  evening,  it  was  with  consterna- 
tion he  heard  the  news  of  the  elder's  departure  and 
the  message  from  him  to  fill  the  appointment. 

"I  regret  very  much  to  leave  you  in  this  extrem- 
ity," the  note  ran,  "but  the  call  is  imperative.  I  am 
aware  it  is  a  hard  position  to  place  you  in  for  your 
first  sermon,  but  I  feel  you  will  have  strength  given 
for  the  task.  I  would  advise  that  you  make  the  ef- 
fort to  occupy,  rather  than  call  the  meeting  off.  You 
will  feel  better  over  the  result.  But  should  you  feel 
that  you  cannot,  the  work  is  in  your  hands  and  you 
must  do  as  you  believe  to  be  best." 

Robert  read  this  with  a  sinking  heart.  "I  had 
always  hoped,"  he  confided  to  Mamie,  "that  when 
I  made  a  start  I  could  do  so  out^among  people  where 
I  am  not  so  well  acquainted.  I  feel  it  wouldn't  be 
so  hard,  but  things  are  always  being  turned  around 
for  me  and  the  dreaded  happens." 

With  the  heaviness  of  responsibility  weighing  up- 
on him  he  went  to  bed  that  night,  to  lie  awake  many 
hours,  to  sleep  at  times  but  fitfully,  and  to  dream 
only  of  defeat  and  failure,  of  unsuccessful  attempts 
to  present  his  arguments  clearly  and  logically,  and 
of  the  scornful  ridicule  pictured  in  the  eyes  of  his 
hearers.  Considerable  prejudice  had  been  aroused 
by  the  late  meetings  and  baptisms,  and  the  news 
of  his  ordination  had  flown  at  once  all  over  town 
among  his  young  associates.  If  they  heard  of  the 
departure  of  Elder  Venton  they  would  all  be  cer- 


"LO,  I  AM  WITH  YOU  ALWAY"  177 

tain  to  be  present,  curious  to  hear  his  first  awkward 
attempts  to  present  his  faith  and  belief.  What  if  he 
failed  under  such  circumstances?  What  would  they 
say?  Would  they  not  laugh  and  say  it  was  but  folly 
and  boasted  talk  of  inspiration? 

More  than  once  he  decided,  as  he  tossed  restlessly 
upon  his  pillow,  to  call  it  off  as  soon  as  morning 
came,  and  as  many  times  decided  that  was  a  coward's 
course.  But  when  morning  did  come  and  they  as- 
sembled for  Sunday  school,  he  discovered  it  was  a 
loyal  little  band  ready  to  stand  by  him  in  his  emer- 
gency. 

"Fail?  Why  you  can't  fail/'  Ned  declared,  posi- 
tively. "Nobody  ever  saw  you  make  a  failure  yet  of 
anything  you  tried  to  do,  and  our  faith  and  prayers 
ought  to  help  some." 

"Sure  it  will  be  all  right  and  we'll  do  our  best 
for  you,"  accorded  Billy,  heartily.  "We'll  get  to- 
gether this  afternoon  and  practice  some  songs  and 
try  to  work  up  something  special.  Don't  back  down, 
Robert;  we  know  you  can  do  it,"  he  urged.  "Come, 
girls,  there's  time  for  a  little  practice  right  now. 
Mamie,  the  piano's  waiting.  Let's  find  something 
to  sing." 

"And  you?"  Robert  whispered  to  Janey,  who  was 
standing  silently  at  one  side  of  the  group. 

"The  promise  of  the  Lord  is  sure  to  those  who 
trust  in  him,"  she  answered  in  a  voice  so  low  as  not 
to  be  heard  by  the  others. 

He  felt  strongly  reinforced  for  his  task;  but  that 
afternoon  following  the  short  prayer  service  when 
VS— 12 


178  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

he  had  gone  away  to  the  woods  to  outline  his  subject 
for  the  evening's  discourse,  doubts  and  fears  again 
assailed  him.  The  situation  was  one  from  which 
even  an  experienced  man  might  shrink,  and  for  this 
inexperienced  youth  of  twenty  it  was  a  crisis  indeed. 
There  would  be  no  one  of  the  priesthood  present  to 
assist  him,  even  in  the  opening  exercises.  His  young 
friends  would  be  there  to  sing,  but  for  the  rest  he 
must  enter  the  pulpit  alone. 

The  hour  for  the  evening  service  was  drawing  rap- 
idly near,  and  alone  in  the  quiet  of  the  woods  Robert 
knelt  to  gain  strength  in  prayer  and  courage  to  face 
his  task.  The  promised  Comforter  did  not  fail  him, 
and  as  he  arose  from  his  knees  with  renewed  confi- 
dence and  trust  there  were  borne  impressively  in 
upon  his  mind  the  words  of  an  old  hymn  he  had 
often  heard  his  mother  sing: 

"The  time  is  far  spent — there  is  little  remaining 

To  publish  glad  tidings  by  sea  and  by  land, 
Then  hasten,  ye  heralds!  go  forward  proclaiming 

'Repent,  for  the  judgments  of  God  are  at  hand!' 
Shrink  not  from  your  duty,  however  unpleasant, 

But  follow  the  Savior,  your  pattern  and  friend; 
Your  little  afflictions,  though  painful  at  present, 

Ere  long  with  the  righteous  in  glory  will  end. 

"Be  fixed  in  your  purpose,  for  Satan  will  try  you, 

The  weight  of  your  calling  he  perfectly  knows; 
Your  path  may  be  thorny,  but  Jesus  is  nigh  you, 

His  arm  is  sufficient,  though  demons  oppose. 
Press  on  to  the  mark  of  eternal  perfection, 

Determined  to  reap  the  celestial  reward, 
That  you  may  come  forth  in  the  first  resurrection, 

And  feast  at  the  supper  of  Jesus  the  Lord." 


"LO,  I  AM  WITH  YOU  ALWAY"  179 

With  the  admonition  of  this  hymn  ringing  in  his 
inner  consciousness,  and  the  assurance  that  all  would 
be  well,  Robert  resolutely  turned  his  footsteps  in 
the  direction  of  town  and  went  straight  to  the  park 
where,  as  he  had  anticipated,  a  large  crowd  had 
already  assembled,  including  practically  every  young 
person  of  his  acquaintance  in  Banf  orth — not  seekers 
after  truth  especially,  but  drawn  together  through 
the  medium  of  curiosity. 

Nevertheless,  the  little  group  of  earnest  support- 
ers on  the  platform  by  the  organ  did  their  part  to 
encourage  him,  and  while  they  sang  he  felt  the  Spirit 
again  encircle  him,  its  enlightenment  fill  his  mind 
and  clear  his  thoughts,  and  as  he  began  to  speak  all 
fear  of  any  nature  whatsoever  left  him.  With  a 
freedom  of  language  and  liberty  of  thought  that 
delighted  his  friends  and  surprised  himself  as  well 
as  his  hearers,  he  poured  forth  an  earnest  discourse, 
powerful  in  delivery  and  convincing  in  logic,  and 
was  amazed  to  find  when  he  had  finished  that  he  had 
talked  uninterruptedly  for  forty-five  minutes. 

An  astonished  crowd  dispersed  almost  silently 
after  the  dismissal.  Only  a  remark  dropped  here 
and  there  gave  indication  of  the  effect  the  discourse 
had  made  upon  it. 

"Must  have  put  in  a  powerful  lot  o'  time  gettin' 
a  sermon  like  that  ready,"  was  the  comment  one 
man  was  overheard  to  make.  "Didn't  have  note  of 
any  kind,  either.  He  sure  had  the  Scriptures  down 

"I  always  said  he  was  a  mighty  smart  boy,"  re- 
pat." 


180  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

marked  another.  "Never  been  away  to  theological 
school  like  most  of  these  preachers  either.  But  his 
father's  a  minister  and  a  splendid  good  talker  him- 
self, and  I  reckon  the  boy's  got  some  of  his  ability." 
But  Robert  and  other  members  of  his  devoted 
band  in  humble  gratitude  thanked  God  that  night 
that  the  promise  made  almost  twenty  centuries  ago 
had  never  passed  away,  but  was  still  true  as  the  day 
it  was  spoken,  "Lo,  I  am  with  you  alway,  even  unto 
the  end  of  the  world." 


THE   CAMP  AT  TIMBER  LAKE  181 

CHAPTER   18 

THE  CAMP  AT  TIMBER  LAKE 

BANFORTH  was  visited  by  an  unusually  long 
stretch  of  hot  weather  that  summer.  Long, 
burning,  sunshiny  days  passed  by  in  steady 
succession,  giving  place  only  to  heavy,  oppressive 
nights  which  brought  little  relief.  The  soft,  green 
meadows  of  June  turned  brown  under  the  sweltering 
heat  of  July,  and  to  a  dusky  gray  with  the  drought 
of  August.  Fortunately  for  the  country  and  crops 
an  abundance  of  spring  and  early  summer  rains  had 
filled  the  soil  with  a  plentiful  supply  of  water,  so 
that  much  of  the  small  grain  had  been  harvested 
and  the  corn  was  well  matured  before  the  drought 
could  seriously  affect  it. 

Through  all  these  long  summer  days  our  young 
people  found  plenty  of  work  to  occupy  brain  and 
hand.  Lu's  time  was  filled  to  the  brim  with  the  cus- 
tomary household  tasks,  keeping  the  garden  free 
from  weeds,  gathering  and  canning  fruit,  and  occa- 
sionally giving  the  mother  a  lift  with  her  dressmak- 
ing. 'Madeline  was  given  charge  of  the  chickens 
and  helped  Lu  and  her  mother  about  the  place  wher- 
ever she  was  most  needed.  Janey,  away  at  summer 
school  a  greater  part  of  the  time,  was  carrying  a 
course  as  heavy  as  the  normal  school  would  permit. 
Robert  spent  his  Sundays  looking  after  the  needs  of 
the  branch  and  Sunday  school,  and  spare  moments 


182  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

reading  books  in  connection  with  his  church  work, 
or  studying  school  textbooks  preparatory  to  the 
teachers'  examination  he  would  be  required  to  take 
in  August.  During  the  week  he  and  Ned  worked  in 
the  harvest  fields,  and  as  the  season  progressed,  went 
across  the  line  into  another  State.  The  prosper- 
ous condition  of  the  country  around  brought  an  in- 
crease of  work  to  bankers  and  merchants,  and  many 
a  day  Billy  bent  to  his  task  over  journal  and  ledger 
long  past  the  hour  of  closing  time. 

Therefore,  on  account  of  the  heat  and  work,  it  was 
rather  a  fagged  out,  tired  lo'oking  little  group  of 
young  people  that  found  themselves  once  more  to- 
gether the  latter  part  of  August,  the  strenuous  tasks 
of  the  summer  behind  them,  new  duties  lying  ahead, 
and  all  feeling  the  need  of  a  little  recreation  before 
taking  them  up.  A  day  or  two  of  refreshing  rain  com- 
ing at  this  time,  breaking  the  drought  and  bringing 
with  it  a  wave  of  cool,  reviving  air,  the  young  folks 
decided  that  the  time  was  ideal  for  a  camping  trip, 
and  forthwith  began  planning  for  one.  A  week, 
with  the  exception  of  Sunday,  was  set  aside  for  it, 
Timber  Lake  was  selected  as  the  place,  and  about  a 
dozen  were  chosen  to  make  up  the  camping  party, 
consisting  of  the  Warrens,  the  Claytons,  Billy,  Sarah 
McEllman,  Sam  Gates,  Larry  and  Dora  Drake,  and 
Macy  and  Meta  Benders,  while  Mrs.  Clayton,  Mrs. 
Warren,  and  Sarah's  mother  were  to  accompany 
them  as  chaperons. 

Monday  morning  the  boys  drove  out  in  Billy's  car 
to  the  lake,  selected  an  ideal  spot,  cool  and  shady,  for 


THE  CAMP  AT  TIMBER   LAKE  182 

the  girls'  and  the  chaperons'  tents,  another  equally 
as  pleasant  a  few  rods  distant  and  a  little  farther  up 
the  hill  for  their  own,  cleared  away  the  low  under- 
brush and  stubs,  and  pitched  the  tents,  erecting  also 
a  small  one  for  provisions,  dishes,  utensils,  and  gen- 
eral cooking  purposes.  These  preliminaries  completed, 
they  drove  back  to  town,  returning  in  the  afternoon 
with  a  wagon  load  of  camp  chairs,  tables,  bedding, 
and  provisions,  the  girls  riding  atop  of  the  load,  a 
merry  lot,  the  chaperons  being  taken  in  the  car.  The 
following  morning  tennis  courts  were  measured  off,  a 
croquet  ground  prepared,  boats  were  rented,  fish- 
ing tackle,  hunting  jackets,  and  bathing  suits  hauled 
out  of  suit  cases  and  boxes,  and  the  campers  entered 
into  five  days  of  such  recreation  and  sport  as  some 
of  them  had  never  found  time  to  indulge  in  before.  It 
was  all  the  more  enjoyable  because  of  being  so  well 
earned  and  deserved.  Five  beautiful,  care-free  mem- 
orable days,  when  the  voices  of  the  young  campers 
rang  out  across  the  surface  of  pretty  Timber  Lake, 
the  splash  of  the  oar  and  of  the  bathers  rippled  her 
waters,  while  at  least  three  times  a  day  they  gathered 
around  the  camp  table  near  the  cook  tent,  appetites 
sharpened  to  a  keen  edge  by  the  outdoor  life  and 
exercise,  and  disposed  of  the  appetizing  dishes  con- 
cocted by  various  ones  of  their  party. 

It  was  agreed  on  the  very  first  evening,  when 
assembled  around  a  blazing  camp  fire,  made  particu- 
larly inviting  by  the  chill  night  breeze,  that  the  bur- 
den of  the  camp  must  not  be  allowed  to  fall  upon 
the  chaperons;  that  the  young  people  must  carry 


184  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

the  greater  portion  of  responsibility  as  well  as  the 
work  of  the  camp,  for  the  mothers  needed  a  rest 
from  household  cares  as  well  as  the  younger  ones 
needed  recreation.  To  apportion  the  work  impar- 
tially among  them,  then,  was  the  first  problem.  The 
boys,  of  course,  were  soon  allotted  the  tasks  of  pro- 
viding water  for  the  camp,  wood  and  kindling  for 
fires,  making  such  trips  to  town  as  would  be  neces- 
sary for  obtaining  added  provisions  and  ice,  and  sup- 
plying fish  as  they  might  be  fortunate  enough  to 
catch  in  the  lake  and  near-by  streams. 

Apportioning  the  work  among  the  girls  was  not 
dispensed  with  so  easily. 

"I  move  we  draw  lots  for  the  one  to  be  chief  cook/' 
suggested  one  of  the  girls. 

"Oh,  dear,  no !"  protested  Sarah  in  dismay.  "You'll 
all  regret  it  if  it  happens  to  fall  to  me.  I  can't  even 
scramble  eggs,  mother  says,  without  making  a  dismal 
failure  of  it." 

"Poor  prospects  for  you,  Sam,"  sang  out  Larry. 
"Better  invite  her  to  take  a  few  lessons  in  domestic 
science,  but  please  wait  till  this  picnic's  over.  We 
don't  want  her  to  practice  on  us." 

"What  does  Sam  care?  He's  been  in  the  seventh 
heaven  for  several  weeks  past,"  said  Macy. 

"Nevertheless,  I  can  attest  the  fact  that  he's 
supremely  mortal  when  it  comes  to  doing  justice  to 
a  good  dinner,"  declared  Billy. 

"I  say,  let's  appoint  Lu  as  chief  cook;  she's  the 
best  in  the  whole  gang,  chaperons  not  excepted," 
cheerfully  proposed  Larry,  rolling  over  on  the  grass 


THE  CAMP  AT  TIMBER  LAKE  185 

into  a  more  comfortable  position.  "There  won't  be 
any  crumbs  left  for  the  squirrels  even,  if  she  pre- 
pares the  meals." 

"Let's  do,"  agreed  Meta.  "Will  you,  Lu?  I'll 
agree  to  help  you  do  anything,  if  you'll  just  go  ahead 
with  the  cooking.  I  detest  to  cook." 

"And  the  rest  of  us  will  clean  up  the  tents  and 
wash  all  the  dishes,"  added  Sarah. 

"Ah,  come  off!"  interposed  Billy  before  Lu  had  a 
chance  to  answer.  "I'll  allow  no  one  to  take  excep- 
tion to  Lu's  cooking,  but  she's  drudged  at  house- 
work all  summer,  and  I  say  it's  only  fair  that  she 
have  a  respite  as  well  as  the  rest  of  us." 

"That's  right,"  assented  the  others,  quickly.  "We 
must  arrange  to  share  the  work  and  responsibility 
more  equally  than  that." 

"If  you  object  so  strongly  then,  Mr.  Billy,  sup- 
pose we  put  you  boys  in  charge  of  the  cooking  one 
day,"  mischievously  suggested  Sarah. 

'We  can  do  it  all  right,"  declared  Ned;  "that  is," 
he  added,  "provided  you  girls  will  take  our  places 
and  furnish  the  wherewithal,  carry  the  water,  catch 
the  fish,  and  so  on,  and  agree  to  eat  what  we  cook. 
We'll  give  you  typical  boys'  camp  grub — breakfast, 
dinner,  and  supper." 

"Hurrah !  that'll  be  a  regular  lark,"  cried  Lu.  "I'll 
loan  you  my  big  apron  and  cap  for  the  occasion." 

"And  mine,"  and  "I  mine,"  one  after  another  of 
the  girls  repeated.  "And  remember  you've  got  to 
promise  to  wear  them." 


186  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

"Sure,  we  will,"  one  of  the  boys  answered.  "We'll 
not  be  bluffed  out  by  aprons  and  caps." 

A  general  hubbub  followed,  which  did  not  subside 
for  several  minutes,  during  which  various  stipula- 
tions were  proposed,  discussed,  and  finally  rejected 
or  agreed  upon  by  both  parties. 

"Then  one  day  is  decided  upon  by  way  of  varia- 
tion," said  Janey,  as  the  crowd  grew  quieter  again. 
"Suppose  we  set  the  boys'  day  for  Thursday;  that's 
the  middle  one  of  the  vacation.  There  will  be  four 
days  left.  Each  two  of  us  girls  might  take  a  day." 

"There  are  only  seven  of  us,  and  that  will  leave 
one  girl  a  day  alone  or  else  a  day  not  provided  for," 
said  Madeline. 

"The  chaperons  will  take  care  of  that  day  and  leave 
you  one  entirely  free,"  spoke  up  Mrs.  McEllman, 
while  the  other  two  ladies  nodded  approval. 

Protests  and  objections  to  this  plan  were  finally 
overruled  by  the  three  ladies  in  question,  and  the 
rest  was  soon  disposed  of,  with  Janey  and  Mamie 
to  take  charge  the  following  day,  Meta,  Madeline, 
and  Dora  assigned  for  Wednesday,  the  boys  Thurs- 
day, the  chaperons  Friday,  and  Lu  and  Sarah  for 
Saturday,  the  closing  one  of  the  camp. 

As  might  be  readily  suspected,  everyone  looked  for- 
ward to  Thursday  for  an  unusual  bit  of  fun  and  good 
time  when  the  routine  of  camp  life  would  be  turned 
about  and  the  duties  of  boys  and  girls  exchanged. 
And  it  was  with  an  assumption  of  pretended  dignity, 
much  mimicking,  primping,  and  powdering  be- 


THE   CAMP  AT  TIMBER  LAKE  187 

fore  mirrors  that  the  boys  that  morning  donned  the 
dainty  lace  or  boudoir  caps  the  girls  brought  them, 
as  well  as  the  big  aprons,  and  came  gayly  out  to  the 
cook  tent  to  the  task  of  frying  bacon  and  preparing 
breakfast.  Meanwhile  the  girls  in  their  gym  suits 
piled  up  the  wood  for  the  camp  fire,  made  more 
or  less  awkward  attempts  at  splitting  the  kindling, 
and  valiantly  carried  the  water  up  the  hill,  pausing 
between  trips  to  laugh  at  the  boys*  comical  speeches 
and  antics  in  their  ridiculous  attire. 

That  was  by  no  means  a  quiet  breakfast.  The 
squirrels  of  Timber  Lake  did  not  approach  very  near 
for  their  daily  portion  of  crumbs  that  morning,  but 
went  scampering  away  to  the  tops  of  the  very  tallest 
trees,  there  to  peer  down  at  them  through  the  thick 
foliage  with  wondering  eyes.  What  queer,  noisy 
creatures  human  beings  are,  they  must  have  thought. 

Breakfast  with  all  its  jolly  accompaniment  of 
laughter  and  bright  witticisms  concluded,  the  girls 
sallied  forth  valiantly  with  fishing  tackle  to  catch 
fish  for  dinner,  even  heroically  baiting  their  own 
hooks  with  the  wriggling  worms  (which  some  of 
them  would  not  have  attempted  under  other  cir- 
cumstances) .  It  may  be  whispered  on  the  side,  that 
more  credit  was  due  to  Lu  than  to  any  other  one 
of  the  girls  that  the  supply  of  fish  was  abundant 
that  noon.  Determined  that  the  girls  should  not  be 
outdone  in  the  matter  of  providing,  she  stuck  faith- 
fully to  her  task  long  after  some  of  the  others  had 
become  discouraged,  and  never  relinquished  it  till 
the  shiners  in  the  pail  were  equal  in  number  and 


188  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

weight  to  any  the  boys  had  furnished;  then  to- 
gether they  cleaned  and  triumphantly  carried  them 
up  to  the  cook  tent. 


EYES,  EARS,  KNOT  HOLES,  AND  CREVICES    189 

CHAPTER  19 
EYES,  EARS,  KNOT  HOLES,  AND  CREVICES 

CORN  FRITTERS  at  a  camp  breakfast!  high 
living!     Looks  like  Lu  had  hold  of  the  do- 
mestic wheel  all  right,"  exclaimed  Billy  as 
the  campers  gathered  around  the  breakfast  table 
Saturday  morning.     "Look  at  'em,"  leaning  over 
and  inspecting  them  admiringly;  "puffy  and  light 
as  down.    Makes  me  hungrier  than  a  bear  at  the  very 
sight  of  'em.    Feel  as  if  I  could  eat  the  whole  plat- 
ter full." 

"Don't  flatter  ypurself  that  you'll  have  the 
chance,"  said  Sam,  eyeing  the  big  platter  heaped 
up  with  the  fluffy,  brown  concoctions  with  a  jealous 
eye.  "If  there's  one  thing  above  another  I  do  like 
it's  corn  fritters,  and  plenty  of  'em,  says  I.  Be- 
sides it's  incumbent  on  all  of  us  to  look  after  your 
health  in  this  matter.  It  wouldn't  do  for  you  to 
get  indigestion  the  last  day  of  camp  life  and  take 
it  back  with  you  to  the  bank.  'T wouldn't  be  a  good 
investment."  And  Sam  reached  out  a  long  arm  and, 
successfully  spearing  a  particular  brown  beauty 
with  his  fork,  transferred  it  to  his  plate. 

"The  last  day!"  groaned  Larry.  "Don't  torture 
me  by  saying  it's  the  sixth  day  of  the  camp,  and 
that  we  have  to  go  back  to  town  this  evening.  I 
can't  believe  it.  I  could  vow  we  haven't  been  here 
more  than  two  days." 


190  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

"And  school  begins  Monday,"  lamented  Meta,  "and 
the  week  will  be  hot  and  endless.  Why  is  it,  can 
anybody  tell  me,  that  a  week  of  school  is  three 
times  as  long  as  a  picnic  week?" 

"Conundrum,"  said  Sam  solemnly,  helping  him- 
self to  a  second  fritter  before  passing  the  plate 
to  Sarah.  "Meta  has  propounded  a  conundrum 
which  the  wisdom  of  the  wise  may  answer.  Too 
busy  to  give  it  thought  myself  at  present,  being 
temporarily  engaged  with  arts  more  pleasing." 

"Don't  be  frivolous,  Sam;  we  thought  it  perma- 
nent," piped  up  Macy. 

"Fritters  seem  to  be  anything  but  permanent 
here,"  Sarah  diverted. 

"I  wish  things  could  be  turned  around  the  other 
way,"  said  Larry,  "the  school  time  short  and  a 
picnic  last  forever.  Think  of  it !  there'll  be  at  least 
two  sweltering  weeks  in  September  before  it  turns 
cool.  Just  imagine  delving  into  an  old  geometry 
with  the  mercury  standing  at  ninety  in  the  shade, 
perspiring  over  Cicero's  dry-as-dust  speeches,  or 
wearing  one's  brains  out  trying  to  fathom  the  depths 
of  thought  of  some  vagrant  author  who  never " 

"No,  no,  quite  impossible,"  declared  Lu,  coming 
up  at  that  moment  with  another  tray  of  fritters. 
"Anyone  acquainted  with  you,  Larry,  knows  well 
there  is  no  danger  of  the  latter  catastrophe.  I  can 
almost  hear  now  Professor  Berson  saying  with  the 
gravest  solemnity,  'Larry  Drake  should  apply  him- 
self more  diligently  to  his  studies.  Cicero's  most 


EYES,  EARS,  KNOT  HOLES,  AND  CREVICES  191 

excellent   orations   should   not  be   lightly  treated. 
They  are  worthy  a  student's  highest  endeavors/  ' 

A  general  laugh  went  round  the  camp  table  over 
Lu's  clever  imitation  of  the  staid  old  professor,  as 
well  as  her  timely  thrust  at  Larry,  whose  spasmodic 
efforts  at  studying  had  become  a  well-established 
joke  among  his  schoolmates.  Larry  only  grunted 
good-naturedly  when  to  make  amends  for  her  speech 
she  gave  him  the  biggest  fritter  on  the  tray. 

"Well,  we've  still  one  day  left  and  we'd  better  make 
the  best  of  what  we  have  and  not  bemoan  what's 
coming,"  advised  Ned.  "What's  the  program?" 

"Everything,"  replied  Billy  promptly.  "I  move 
that  we  crowd  into  this  day  everything  we've  done 
this  week " 

"Which  means  fishing,  bathing,  boating,  games, 
tree  climbing,  hunting "  interrupted  Sam. 

"And  that  we  don't  break  camp  till  old  Sol  has 
given  us  a  last,  long  farewell,  and  we  are  left  to 
make  our  way  home  by  the  light  of  the  silvery 
moon,"  Billy  finished. 

"You  should  recollect  that  this  is  Saturday,  and 
that  some  of  us  have  work  to  do  getting  things 
straightened  up  and  ready  for  school  Monday  morn- 
ing," interposed  Lu. 

"What's  the  odds  ?  It's  the  last  playday  of  the  sea- 
son. No. telling  when  we'll  ever  get  another,  and 
we'll  have  to  work  like  beavers  from  now  on.  Let's 
improve  each  shining  minute,"  argued  Billy. 

"Wish  we  could  find  something  entirely  different 


192  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

to  do.  We  ought  to  make  the  last  day  especially 
memorable,"  Sarah  remarked  a  trifle  pensively. 

"Might  get  your  fortunes  told,"  suggested  Robert, 
speaking  for  the  first  time  since  they  had  sat  down 
to  the  table.  "A  bunch  of  gypsies  camped  down  by 
the  lake  last  night.  I  discovered  their  camp  this 
morning  when  I  was  out  taking  an  early  morning 
row  on  the  lake." 

"Gypsies !"  screamed  several  of  the  girls  in  chorus. 
11  Real  gypsies,  Robert?" 

"Gypsies !  real,  live  gypsies !"  mimicked  Billy  in  a 
high  falsetto.  "I'm  a  witness  to  the  truth  of  Rob- 
ert's statement.  I  saw  them  with  my  own  eyes." 

"Oh,  girls,  how  lovely!  Let's  get  our  fortunes 
told."  ' 

"Oh,  do  let's  get  our  fortunes  told,"  mimicked 
Billy  again.  "So  lovely !" 

"Robert,  do  tell  us  where  they  are,  please,"  said 
Sarah,  coaxingly,  ignoring  Billy's  interruptions. 

"Oh,  yes,  Robert;  tell  us,  quick,"  urged  Meta  and 
Madeline. 

"Somewhere  along  the  bank  of  the  lake,"  replied 
Robert  with  exasperating  calmness  as  he  poured  the 
maple  syrup  plentifully  over  his  cake. 

"We'll  agree  to  give  you  their  exact  location  if 
you'll  let  us  hear  the  fortunes,"  proposed  Billy. 
"Otherwise " 

"Indeed,  we'll  not  do  anything  of  the  kind,"  re- 
plied Sarah. 

"Gypsies  won't  let  you  listen,"  cried  Dora.  "I've 
had  mine  told  a  lot  of  times  and  they  never  will  tell 


EYES,  EARS,  KNOT  HOLES,  AND  CREVICES  193 

anything  when  others  are  around.  So,  Mr.  Billy,  if 
you  won't  tell  us  I  just  guess  we  can  find  them  our- 
selves." 

"What  did  they  tell  you?"  inquired  Larry. 

"I'm  not  going  to  tell  that  either.  It  was  good, 
though.  I'm  going  to  be  rich  and  cross  the  ocean." 

"The  most  likely  thing  in  the  world.  Guess  I'll 
get  mine  told.  Girls  always  are  silly  enough  to  be- 
lieve that  every  word  a  gypsy  says  is  true." 

"Well,"  declared  Sarah,  quite  impressively,  "a 
gypsy  told  me  some  things  that  did  happen  all  right, 
and  she  told  mother  a  lot  of  things  that  happened  in 
her  life,  didn't  she,  mother?" 

"I  don't  believe  they  can  tell  anything  about  the 
future,  though,"  said  Lu.  "How  could  they?" 

"I  don't  know  how  they  tell,  but  they  surely  hit 
some  things  straight  enough.  It  came  out  just  like 
they  said.  Anyhow  it's  bushels  of  fun." 

"I  should  say  it  is,"  affirmed  Dora.  "Please  tell 
us — you  will,  won't  you,  Robert?" 

"Indeed  we'll  not  let  him  tell  it  unless  you'll  give 
us  a  chance  to  hear,  or  solemnly  promise  you'll  tell 
us  everything  she  says,"  interposed  Billy. 

"Then  we'll  just  hunt  'em  up  ourselves.  You  don't 
have  to  tell  us." 

There  was  a  hurried  breaking  up  of  the  breakfast 
group  on  the  part  of  the  girls,  and  the  boys  having 
finished  a  little  later,  went  up  the  hill  to  their  tent 
for  bathing  suits,  then  down  toward  the  old  boat- 
house  by  the  lake  for  a  plunge. 

"We've  simply  got  to  find  those  gypsies,  girls," 
VS— 13 


194  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

said  Sarah.  "Let's  leave  the  dishes  for  a  little  while. 
Come  on,  Janey,  we'll  hunt  them.  Why  didn't  you 
coax  Robert  to  tell?  He'd  have  told  you." 

"I'm  not  so  sure  about  that,"  Janey  replied.  "Nor 
so  sure  either  but  what  the  boys  are  just  trying  to 
get  us  excited.  Nevertheless,  if  there  are  some  gyp- 
sies about,  I'm  in  for  having  some  fun." 

"So  am  I.  I'm  just  crazy  to  have  my  fortune 
told,"  declared  Meta. 

"Bah!  such  silly  nonsense!"  ejaculated  Lu,  with 
scorn.  "I  wouldn't  spend  a  nickel  or  a  minute's  time 
on  the  old  frauds.  They  tell  you  nothing  but  a  lot 
of  stuff." 

"Yes,  they  can,  too.  I  know  they  can.  You  just 
try  them  once  and  see,"  declared  Dora  a  trifle  indig- 
nantly. "Come,  Lu,  and  if  we  find  them  we'll  prove 
it  to  you." 

"Run  along,  you  crazy  girls,  if  you  must,"  Lu  com- 
manded, with  an  independent  little  toss  of  the  head, 
"but  I  shall  stay  right  here.  Clear  off,  the  whole  out- 
fit of  you.  Yes,  Sarah,  you  may  go,  and  I'll  wash  up 
these  dishes  and  attend  to  the  preliminaries  of  din- 
ner that  I  may  have  food  prepared  for  your  hungry 
bodies.  You'll  need  something  to  sustain  them  after 
you've  spent  hours  trotting  around  the  lake  fortune 
hunting.  The  gypsy'll  have  the  fortune  I'll  be  bound. 
I'll  advise  you  to  leave  your  pocketbooks  with  me 
and  take  only  a  small  amount  of  change.  They'll  be 
safer  here,  no  doubt." 

"Oh,  leave  the  dishes  and  come  on.  You  don't  want 
to  miss  the  fun." 


EYES,  EARS,  KNOT  HOLES,  AND  CREVICES  195 

"Please  do,"  coaxed  another. 

But  all  arguments,  inducements,  and  persuasions 
failing  to  move  the  obdurate  Lu,  the  girls  left  off 
teasing  her  finally,  and  stopping  only  long  enough  to 
slip  into  the  last  clean  shirt  waists,  give  sundry  final 
pats  to  their  hair,  and  don  hats,  the  six  were  off,  a 
lively,  chattering  bunch  as  they  hastened  down  the 
hill. 

"I  just  wonder  what  they'll  tell  us/'  giggled  Meta. 
"Do  you  know,  girls,  I  feel  so  funny — to  think  of 
having  my  fortune  told." 

"Better  put  that  diamond  out  of  sight,  Sarah. 
She'll  be  sure  to  spy  it  the  first  thing  and  have  a 
clew,"  said  Dora.  "If  she's  any  good  she'll  tell  of 
your  engagement  anyhow.  I'd  laugh  if  she  described 
Sam." 

Sarah  flushed,  but  obediently  took  the  ring  from 
her  finger,  and  slipping  it  over  her  locket  chain, 
dropped  it  under  the  lace  at  her  throat. 

"Which  way  shall  we  go,  girls  ?"  asked  Janey.  "Do 
you  suppose  we  better  get  a  boat?" 

"No,  let's  walk.  Honest,  I  don't  think  the  camp's 
very  far,"  said  Sarah. 

"I  think  it's  this  way,"  said  Madeline.  "I  saw  a 
smoke  awhile  ago  over  in  this  direction.  I  most 
know  it  was  their  camp  fire.  If  it  is,  we  can  walk. 
It's  not  far  from  the  boathouse,  I  think." 

"Then  let's  go  that  way  and  see.  If  there  are  no 
signs  of  them  there,  we'll  get  a  boat  and  row  across 
the  lake." 

Straight  for  the  old  boathouse  they  started,  and 


196  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

long  before  they  came  in  sight  around  the  bend  their 
laughter  and  chatter  heralded  their  approach.  Near 
the  boat  landing  the  boys  were  arrested  from  the  ex- 
hilaration of  their  morning  plunge  as  the  voices  of 
the  girls  were  borne  to  their  ears. 

"By  ginger!  boys,"  exclaimed  Billy,  raising  his 
head  above  the  water  and  looking  in  the  direction  of 
the  camp,  "it's  the  girls  out  on  a  hunt  for  the  gyp- 
sies, sure  as  fate,  and,  hail  Columbia!"  he  added 
gleefully,  "if  there  doesn't  come  the  old  hag  of  a  for- 
tune teller  now  from  the  gypsy  camp.  She's  on  the 
scent  all  right.  Did  you  ever  see  anything  so  lucky 
in  your  life?  The  chances  are  they'll  meet  some- 
where near  the  boathouse.  Let's  hie  for  the  back  en- 
trance. We  can  get  there  and  into  it  without  obser- 
vation from  the  road.  Duck  quick,  every  one  of  you." 

Without  waiting  for  a  second's  deliberation  and 
keenly  alive  to  the  humor  of  the  situation,  the  boys 
obeyed  Billy's  command  and  "ducked,"  coming  to 
surface  again  underneath  the  boat  landing  and 
scrambling  up  through  an  inner  opening  into  the 
boathouse,  like  so  many  wet  rats. 

The  boathouse  was  an  old,  weather-beaten,  dilapi- 
dated structure,  having  served  well  its  time,  but  con- 
taining now  wide  cracks,  big  knot  holes — and  in 
some  places  whole  boards  were  missing.  The  boys 
sought  the  most  convenient  and  available  of  these 
for  observation  of  the  road  and  awaited  further  de- 
velopments. 

They  had  not  long  to  wait.  Scarcely  had  they  dis- 
posed themselves  to  their  satisfaction  when  the  girls 


EYES,  EARS,  KNOT  HOLES,  AND  CREVICES  197 

came  into  view  again  around  another  little  bend  in 
the  road,  while  from  the  other  direction  the  gypsy 
was  hastening  to  meet  them.  A  disreputable  look- 
ing creature  she  was,  garments  woefully  soiled,  a 
bright  red  scarf  about  her  shoulders,  immense  ear- 
rings suspended  from  the  lobes  of  her  ears,  hair 
frowsy  and  uncombed,  black  eyes  shrewd  and  cun- 
ning. She  darted  forward  as  she  spied  the  girls  and 
stopped  directly  in  front  of  them  less  than  a  dozen 
feet  from  the  shore  side  of  the  old  boathouse  where 
the  boys  were  secreted. 

"Your  fortune,  little  ladies?  Let  ze  gypsy  tell  for- 
tune. I  tell  good  fortune.  Gypsy  fortune  teller  al- 
ways tell  true — tell  you  much  little  ladies  like  to 
know — much  little  ladies  ought  to  know.  Fortune?" 

"Oh,  girls,  I'm  scared,"  whispered  Meta  Benders, 
giggling  and  sidling  backwards. 

"Oh,  no,  no — gypsy  fortune  teller  won't  hurt  little 
lady — zey  do  you  good,"  said  the  artful  beggar  whose 
sharp  ears  had  detected  the  whisper.  "Gypsy  lady 
know  something  good  to  tell  you.  You  want  to  hear 
it?  Cross  my  palm  with  silver,  ma'am — that's  it. 
Now,  rest  of  you  go  'way — just  little  way.  I  tells 
yours  d'rectly." 

Reluctantly  the  other  five  moved  back  and  stood 
upon  a  little  knoll  at  one  side,  while  with  eyes  pressed 
close  to  knot  hole  and  crevice  six  boys  listened 
breathlessly  to  the  extravagant  utterances  of  the  old 
woman  over  Meta's  outstretched  palm. 

"You  happy  little  girl — very  happy  little  girl — lots 
o'  friends — good  home — some  these  days  you  find 


198  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

lover — you  find  him  soon.  He  big,  tall — dark  eyes, 
very  dark — he  come  from  'way  off.  He  meet  you 
one  day,  he  like  you,  he  go  way — zen  he  write  you 
letter — you  write  him — by'n  by  he  come  back — he 
take  you  way,  way  wi'  him." 

Meta's  eyes  were  growing  bigger  and  rounder  ev- 
ery moment  as  the  gypsy  proceeded,  and  the  listen- 
ing boys  were  nearly  convulsed  at  her  credulous  ex- 
pression. 

"Meta's  swallowing  that  all  whole,  just  like  a 
young  robin  does  grubs/'  declared  her  twin  brother 
in  a  disgusted  stage  whisper.  "She's  the  easiest 
duped  thing  I  ever  saw." 

"Not  so  loud,"  cautioned  Robert,  while  the  rough 
board  Larry  was  leaning  on  popped  ominously  at 
that  moment.  The  noise  caused  the  gypsy  to  look 
around  cautiously,  but  seeing  no  stir  about  the  boat- 
house  except  a  couple  of  gray  squirrels  playing  about 
over  the  roof,  attributed  the  noise  to  them  and  pro- 
ceeded, though  in  a  much  lowered  tone,  so  her  words 
were  indistinguishable  to  the  boys'  ears. 

"There,  she's  about  finished.  She  won't  tell  much 
more  unless  she  sees  another  quarter  forthcoming," 
Robert  whispered  again  after  a  few  moments.  "She's 
sending  her  away  now." 

"Wants  to  be  sure  of  the  rest  of  the  gang,"  Billy 
whispered  back.  "Who's  coming  next?" 

There  was  a  moment's  consultation  among  the 
group  of  girls  after  Meta  joined  them,  and  then 
Sarah  left  and  came  tripping  with  light  steps  down 
the  low  embankment. 


EYES,  EARS,  KNOT  HOLES,  AND  CREVICES  199 

"Hurrah  for  Sarah !  Here's  where  we  learn  Sam's 
fate,  too,"  Billy  whispered,  giving  Sam's  foot  a  sly 
kick.  "Hold  your  breath,  Sam." 

"Shut  up,  Billy,  she's  commencing  and  we'll  miss 
something,"  came  from  Larry. 

The  six  boys  grew  motionless,  and  the  gypsy,  see- 
ing no  cause  for  alarm,  proceeded  with  less  caution. 
Her  words  reached  them  quite  clearly. 

"You  ha'  good  fortune,  too,  little  lady,  ah — yes,  I 
glad  to  tell  you  good  fortune.  You  already  promised, 
ain't  you,  dearie? — yes,"  as  Sarah  blushed — "you 
can't  fool  gypsy.  You  lover  he  give  you  diamond 
ring — you  be  married  'fore  Christmas — ain't  zat  so, 
lit'le  lady?  Now  ain't  zat  so?  Sure,  you  knows  it's 
so,"  shaking  her  head  and  laughing  till  the  big  ear- 
rings jingled.  "You  be  married  'fore  Christmas." 

"Secret's  out,  Sam.  Why  didn't  you  tell  us  the 
date?"  whispered  Ned.  "No  use  trying  to  keep  it 
any  longer.  Sarah's  face  has  given  it  all  away." 

"Good  young  man — fine  young  man — "  the  gypsy 
was  saying.  Billy  reached  over  and  patted  him  on 
the  shoulder.  "He  have  light  hair — like  this?  No," 
touching  Sarah's  reddish  brown  locks  that  strayed  in 
coquettish  curls  out  from  under  the  pretty  turban. 
"No,  no,  not  like  this,  hees  hair  yellow — [Billy  gave 
a  friendly  but  none  too  gentle  pull  at  Sam's  dingy 
yellow  pompadour]  blue  eyes — turn-up  nose — " 

"That's  you  all  right,  Sam.  No  getting  round 
that,"  said  Billy  gleefully.  "She's  got  you  spotted." 

"Sh-h!" 

"Your  lover  he  like  good  things  to  eat — you  no 


200  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

like  to  cook — you  learn  to  cook,  you  be  happy — " 

"Fritters,"  slyly  remarked  Larry.  "Sarah's  got 
a  job  cooking  for  Sam.  He  only  ate  six  for  break- 
fast." 

"Sh-h!" 

"You  learn  to  cook  well — he  make  money — by 
and  by  you  no*  have  to  cook.  Hees  father  own  store. 
By  and  by  your  lover's  father  he  die — your  lover  he 
get  rich.  You  no'  need  to  cook  zen.  He  buy  you  more 
diamonds  zan  one.  See.  You  be  much  happy  little 
lady—" 

"Lucky  Sam!"  Billy  interjected  again.  "All 
smooth  sailing,  my  boy.  Wait,  she's  going  back. 
Who  next?" 

But  the  irrepressible  Billy  grew  suddenly  silent 
and  undemonstrative  as  he  saw  Janey  leaving  the 
group  this  time,  and  however  much  any  of  the  boys 
would  have  scoffed  at  the  idea  of  a  gypsy  foretelling 
the  future,  or  predicting  that  of  good  or  evil  mo- 
ment, it  is  unmistakably  certain,  despite  this  fact, 
that  two  hearts  within  that  old  boathouse  throbbed 
considerably  faster  and  two  boyish  forms  grew 
suspiciously  tense  and  rigid  as  they  strained  their 
ears  to  hear  every  word.  Ned  took  one  sly  glance  at 
both  of  them  and  over  their  heads  caught  Larry's 
knowing  wink,  and  silence  profound  fell  over  the 
eavesdroppers. 

"You  fine,  gentle  little  lady — got  sens' tive,  tender 
lit'le  heart — "  began  the  gypsy,  scanning  the  many 
fine  lines  traced  in  the  white  palm  of  the  slender, 
dainty  hand  Janey  placed  in  her  rough,  dirty,  brown 


EYES,  EAKS,  KNOT  HOLES,  AND  CREVICES  201 

ones.  "You  no'  very  strong  to  bear  hard  things — 
you  ought  not  have  to — you  too  gentle  for  hard 
ways — just  ze  same  you  meet  'em  like — like  brave, 
strong  man  meet  'em — you  no'  give  up.  I  see  you 
long,  long  way  from  home — lots  trouble — but  you 
brave,  strong  lit'le  lady.  You  get  sad  message. 

"You  sweet-faced  lit'le  lady,"  the  gypsy  con- 
tinued, still  holding  the  hand,  but  with  her  dark, 
shrewd  eyes  watching  closely  Janey's  countenance. 
"Your  face  make  your  fortune.  You  no'  lack  for 
lovers.  You  find  lovers  anywhere.  If  you  go  east, 
you  find  lover.  If  you  go  west,  you  find  lover — go 
south,  there'd  be  lover  there.  You  already  gone 
north — found  lover,  too — " 

"No  fake  about  that,"  from  Sam  back  of  the  knot 
hole,  who  in  turn  now  patted  Billy's  shoulder. 
"Jolly!  she's  some  fortune  teller.  Believe  I'll  have 
her  read  my  palm." 

"Keep  still,"  from  Ned. 

"You  bring  him  back — he  follow  you — he  follow 
you  anywhere — he  go  to  world's  ends  for  you — he 
handsome  fellow — gray  eyes — he  like  run  races — he 
strong — he  beat.  He  got  money,  too.  He  make  you 
good  husband.  You  like  him — he  like  you — " 

"And  live  happy  ever  after,"  came  a  whisper  from 
Larry,  who  was  finding  it  hard  to  contain  himself. 

"Sh-h,  listen!" 

The  listeners  grew  even  more  tense  as  the  gypsy 
began  again. 

"Right  at  home  you  find  lover.  He  fine  young 
man,  too,  but  he  not  like  other.  He  more  quiet — 


202  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

more  solemn — not  so  happy  like.  He  taller — he 
run  races,  too.  He  bigger — he  handsome,  but  not  ze 
same  handsome — no — no — he  difference.  He  like 
you  very,  very  much,  but  he  got  no  money.  You 
like  him,  too — "  Again  the  musical  laugh  of  the 
little  gypsy  rang  out  and  her  gold  earrings  bobbed 
in  a  merry  way  about  her  neck. 

"Zey  both  like*you — you  like  both  zey — sometimes 
not  know  which  more — but  way  down,  down  deep 
in  you'  lit'le  heart,  lady,  where  you  don't  tell  nobody, 
you  likes  one  ze  best — now  ain't  zat  so,  dearie?" 

"I  don't  see  why  I  should,"  said  Janey,  smiling. 
"Which  one  is  it?  I'd  like  to  know.  You  ought  to 
be  able  to  tell,  and  help  me  out  of  the  difficulty." 

In  the  boathouse  Robert  and  Billy  were  looking 
straight  ahead  through  their  own  particular  crevices 
and  neither  moved  a  muscle. 

"That  old  lady's  getting  mighty  close  to  the  heart- 
strings, I  wouldn't  be  afraid  to  bet  my  hat,"  Macy 
whispered  to  Ned.  "Billy,  what  makes  you  so  quiet 
all  of  a  sudden?  Got  paralyzed?" 

"Keep  still,  blockhead,"  came  the  rather  savage  re- 
sponse from  that  young  man. 

Outside  again  the  gypsy  was  laughing  merrily. 
"You  sly  lit'le  coquette !  I  no  need  to  tell  you  which 
you  like.  You  know.  Gypsy  fortune  teller  know. 
She  knows  you  like  money,  an'  fine  things — beauti- 
ful things — pretty  clothes — "  Robert's  hand  clutched 
tighter  the  post  to  which  he  was  holding — "Yes,  you 
like  'em,  and  you  like  him — don't  you,  dearie?" 

"Why,  surely,  why  shouldn't  I?    Money's  a  splen- 


EYES,  EARS,  KNOT  HOLES,  AND  CREVICES  203 

did  thing  to  have.  Don't  you  think  it's  an  easy 
choice?"  Janey  inquired  innocently,  but  she  did  not 
suspect  how  the  mischief  was  dancing  in  her  eyes. 

"Ah,  lit'le  lady,  you  no'  fool  the  gypsy  fortune  tel- 
ler. Ze  gypsy  know  better.  You  got  a  heart  zat 
beats  as  true — you  don't  marry  no  man  for  money. 
You  marry  for  love — yes,  zat  so — an'  you  loves  other 
lover  most.  Ain't  zat  so,  dearie  ?" 

Robert's  fingers  loosened  their  hold  on  the  post  and 
he  caught  a  quick  breath.  Billy  had  the  sensation  of 
one  thrust  suddenly  under  a  cold  shower  bath.  Sam 
Gates  gave  a  chuckle  that  threatened  their  disclosure, 
and  Larry  immediately  threw  one  hand  over  his 
mouth.  The  gypsy  looked  cautiously  around,  but 
seeing  no  evident  signs  of  life,  went  on,  but  though 
the  two  young  men  most  concerned  still  pressed  eyes 
or  ears  close  to  the  openings  in  the  wall,  in  the  tu- 
mult of  emotions  they  sensed  little  more  of  the  gyp- 
sy's jabberings  before  Janey  rejoined  the  group. 

"It's  a  shame  for  Lu  to  miss  all  this,"  Sarah  was 
saying  a  moment  later.  "I'd  give  a  dollar  to  hear 
what  the  gypsy'd  tell  her.  She  certainly  hit  mine 
straight,  and  Meta's  too,  and  Janey's  about  as  well, 
I  imagine,  or  she'd  tell  us  what  she  said." 

"Let's  go  back  up  the  hill  while  Dora  and  Made- 
line are  getting  theirs  told  and  see  if  we  can't  per- 
suade Lu  to  come,"  Meta  urged. 

"S'pos'n  we  do.  I  wish  I  had  some  more  money, 
I'd  get  her  to  tell  me  some  more,"  said  Sarah. 
"Wouldn't  you,  Janey?" 

"No,  I  think  I've  had  enough  for  one  time,"  Janey 


204  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

replied,  "but  we  can  go  back  and  see  if  we  can  get 
Lu  to  come/* 

"I  think  I  can  coax  her  to,"  said  Mamie.  "Come 
on;  I'll  get  mine  told  when  I  come  back." 

The  four  hurried  back  up  the  hill.  Lu  had  washed 
all  the  dishes  except  the  cooking  utensils  and  had 
just  put  them  all  in  order  in  the  little  box  cupboard 
in  the  cook  tent,  and  was  now  pinning  on  her  hat 
preparatory  to  going  to  the  spring  for  a  bucket  of 
water  with  which  to  finish  up  her  work  when  the 
girls  burst  upon  her  excitedly. 

"You  big  goosies !"  Lu  declared  with  unflattering 
candor  as  they  finished  a  more  or  less  incoherent  and 
jumbled  recital  of  their  adventures.  "What  a  credu- 
lous bunch  you  are.  Of  course  she  could  tell.  Any- 
body could  read  Sarah's  face  like  a  newspaper,  and 
with  that  little  red  crease  on  the  third  finger  of  her 
left  hand,  why,  it  wouldn't  take  a  gypsy  to  discover 
that  a  ring  had  just  been  removed." 

"But  how  could  she  guess  at  all  the  other  things  ?" 
argued  Sarah.  "It's  just  perfectly  wonderful  the 
things  she  told  us,  Lu.  I  wish  you'd  come  and  see 
for  yourself.  I  know  she  told  some  things  straight." 

"The  color  of  Sam's  eyes  and  hair,  for  instance," 
said  Meta. 

"Do  come  on,"  urged  Mamie.  "Suppose  we  don't 
believe  it.  It's  bushels  of  fun,  anyway." 

"You've  missed  half  your  life  till  you've  had  your 
fortune  told,"  added  Meta. 

"All  right,  I  will,"  said  Lu,  with  such  sudden  and 


EYES,  EARS,  KNOT  HOLES,  AND  CREVICES  205 

good-natured  acquiescence  the  girls  were  amazed. 
"Just  wait  a  minute  till  I  get  ready." 

"Why,  you're  all  ready  as  you  are.  Just  take  your 
apron  off  and  come  along.  Gypsies  are  not  especially 
stylish,"  laughed  Sarah,  delighted  that  they  had  won 
her  over  so  soon. 

"No,  I'm  not  ready.  For  once  I  shall  give  special 
attention  to  dressing.  You  may  go  on  back  if  you 
wish  and  I'll  come  later.  Only  you're  not  by  word 
or  look  to  give  me  away.  I'm  going  to  prove  to  you 
girls  that  that  gypsy  can't  tell  any  more  about  your 
future,  or  your  present,  for  that  matter,  than  I  can. 
First,  Sarah,  your  mother  has  gone  with  my  mother 
and  Mamie's  to  the  other  side  of  the  lake  in  a  boat, 
and  so  I  shall  ask  you  if  I  may  have  that  old  black 
and  white  check  dress  of  hers  that  she  wore  around 
the  camp  in  the  rain  Tuesday  and  got  all  muddy." 

"Hardly  necessary  to  ask — of  course  you  can  have 
it.  But  what  in  the  world  do  you  want  it  for?" 

"Wait  and  see.  If  you  are  not  going  back  right 
now  you  may  help  me  if  you  will.  Never  mind  the 
pans  and  kettles.  I'll  finish  them  when  we  get  back. 
You  may  lend  me  all  your  aid.  For  once  I  shall  require 
the  assistance  of  maids  in  dressing.  Mamie,  will  you 
hunt  up  that  old  pair  of  slippers  of  your  mother's? 
They're  a  little  large,  but  will  be  just  the  thing;  and, 
Janey,  mother's  shawl  is  hanging  somewhere  behind 
that  curtain.  That's  it;  now  for  a  long  petticoat." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  queried  two  or  three 
of  the  girls  in  amazement,  but  obeying  orders. 

"Going  to  fool  the  gypsy,  and  at  the  same  time 


206  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

show  what  fools  you  girls  have  made  of  yourselves," 
replied  Lu,  coolly,  pulling  on  an  old  black  petticoat 
that  nearly  touched  the  ground  and  next  proceeding 
to  don  the  black  and  white  check  dress  of  Mrs.  Mc- 
Ellman's.  "Somebody  bring  me  a  little  water  in  the 
washbasin,  and  Meta,  hand  me  mother's  bottle  of 
gum  arabic  from  the  cupboard  shelf." 

"For  conscience'  sake,  what  are  you  going  to  do 
with  it?"  exclaimed  the  wondering  girls. 

"Plaster  my  hair  down  tight,"  Lu  replied  care- 
lessly, letting  down  her  long  braids  and  undoing 
them  with  quick  fingers.  "Now  for  some  wire  hair- 
pins," as  she  parted  it  in  the  middle  of  her  forehead 
and  proceeded  to  "plaster"  it  tightly  down  to  her 
head.  "There,  give  it  a  corkscrew  twist,  Janey.  Now, 
don't  I  look  ten  years  older  than  I  did  five  minutes 
ago?" 

"You  certainly  do,"  exclaimed  Janey,  looking  with 
dismay  at  the  transformation.  "Lu,  you  look  dread- 
ful." 

"Just  a  little  dash  of  dirt  now  on  my  neck,  and  a 
trifle  of  that  lamp  black  to  darken  underneath  my 
eyes  will  be  an  added  improvement,"  Lu  said,  sur- 
veying herself  in  the  glass  quite  unconcernedly. 
"Don't  be  horrified,  sister ;  I  shall  not  adopt  this  style 
of  dress  permanently.  Fortunately  my  hands  are  yet 
red  from  the  dishwater,  which  shows  I  am  a  work- 
ing woman  and  accustomed  to  household  duties  in- 
stead of  a  mere  schoolgirl  like  the  rest  of  you.  Now 
for  the  fun.  Please  warn  the  other  girls  as  soon  as 
you  have  a  chance,  and  when  you  see  me  coming  get 


EYES,  EARS,  KNOT  HOLES,  AND  CREVICES  207 

away  far  enough  so  she  won't  suspect  I  have  any  con- 
nection with  you  whatever." 

"Well,  you  surely  are  a  fright!"  exclaimed  Mamie, 
doubling  up  with  laughter  as  Lu  trailed  off  down  the 
hill  and  then  turned  off  to  one  side  from  the  road 
leading  to  the  boat  landing.  "I  should  never  know 
her  in  the  world,  girls,  if  I  hadn't  seen  her  dress  up 
myself." 

The  girls  laughed  till  their  sides  ached,  and  it  was 
no  wonder.  Lu  was  such  a  ridiculous  picture.  The 
old  black  and  white  check  dress  dragged  the  ground 
at  the  back,  a  great  rent  was  on  one  side  of  the  skirt, 
and  it  was  drabbled  and  soiled.  Too  long  in  the  waist, 
it  bloused  over  the  belt  slouchily,  while  more  than 
all,  her  long  brown  hair,  drawn  tightly  back  and 
fastened  with  half  a  dozen  hairpins  into  a  corkscrew 
knot,  had  changed  her  whole  appearance. 

"Such  sillies!"  the  girl  was  saying  to  herself  as 
she  stepped  over  a  fallen  log  and  gave  her  skirt  an 
impatient  twitch  to  release  it  from  a  stubby  limb. 
Lu  despised  long  skirts.  They  gave  her  a  feeling  of 
imprisonment.  "I  wouldn't  hamper  myself  with 
clothes  like  this  day  in  and  day  out  for  a  fortune; 
but  I  suppose  it  becomes  necessary  that  I  make  a 
martyr  of  myself  in  order  to  teach  these  foolish 
young  things  a  lesson." 

By  dint  of  much  perseverance  and  many  encoun- 
ters with  fallen  twigs  and  briers  that  caught  and 
pulled  at  her  skirts,  Lu  reached  the  bottom  of  the 
hill  and  the  road  which  encircled  the  lake.  Through 
the  open  space  she  caught  sight  of  the  boat  landing, 


208  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

the  gypsy,  and  one  of  the  girls,  the  others  returning 
toward  the  boathouse  along  the  road.  Just  then  a 
loud,  plaintive  cry  issued  from  somewhere  among 
the  bushes  at  her  left  and  a  childish  voice  wailed : 

"Oh,  I  want  my  mamma,  I  do — I  want  my  mamma ! 
Boo-hoo — oh,  dear,  I  want  my  mamma." 

Lu  quickly  slipped  over  another  large  log  that 
lay  in  her  way,  frantically  disentangled  her  skirts 
from  a  thorny  brush  heap,  and  ran  toward  the  low 
bushes  from  which  the  sound  proceeded.  A  diminu- 
tive, pathetic  looking  little  urchin  of  about  two  or 
three  years  of  age,  in  blue  calico  frock,  with  face 
besmeared  with  dust  and  dirt,  traced  through  by  tiny 
rivulets  of  tears,  a  tousled  shock  of  tow-colored 
hair  crowning  a  troubled  little  head,  and  grimy 
hand  rubbing  swollen,  tear-wet  eyes,  was  what  met 
her  astonished  gaze. 

"What's  the  matter,  honey  pet?  Are  you  lost?" 
Lu  dropped  down  beside  the  little  blue-frocked 
urchin  and  patted  him  gently. 

"I  want  my  mamma,"  sobbed  the  child  again,  but 
comforted  by  her  presence  snuggled  his  dusty  little 
head  against  her  shoulder.  "My  mamma  gone  off. 
I  can't  find  her." 

"Which  way  did  she  go,  sweetheart?  Shall  I 
help  you  hunt  her?"  Lu,  all  sympathy,  gathered  him 
into  her  arms,  dirt  and  all,  forgetful  of  everything 
else  but  the  sorrows  of  the  baby. 

"That  way,"  the  child  made  answer,  pointing  down 
the  road  that  curved  around  the  lake  to  the  boat 
landing.  "Mamma  gone  that  way." 


EYES,  EARS,  KNOT  HOLES,  AND  CREVICES  209 

"Then  don't  cry.  We'll  find  her  pretty  soon.  I'll 
help  you  hunt  her — bother  this  old  dress !"  pulling  it 
out  of  her  way  and  wiping  the  child's  dirty  face 
with  his  dirtier  apron.  "Suppose  we  go  now  and 
look  for  her,  shall  we?" 

"All  yight;  let's  go,"  agreed  the  child  joyfully. 
Then  reaching  up  his  arms  he  put  them  about  Lu's 
neck  and  kissed  her  cheek.  "I  like  'oo,"  he  cooed. 

She  helped  him  out  from  among  the  tangle  of 
brier  bushes  and  led  him  to  the  smooth,  sandy  road, 
stopping  once  or  twice  to  pick  a  thorn  from  his  foot, 
and  hand  in  hand  they  strolled  along  the  road,  Lu 
expecting  every  instant  to  come  upon  a  frantic 
mother  in  search  of  a  lost  baby. 

"Yes,  dearie,  you  been  in  lots  of  danger,"  the  gypsy 
was  saying  to  Mamie,  for  the  girls  had  lost  no  time 
in  getting  back.  "I  see  you  one  time  in  great  dan- 
ger— good  fellow  pull  you  out.  He  save  you.  He 
save  you  to  happy  life — not  all  happy — you  see  some 
trouble — lit'le  maybe.  Much  happy,  too.  You  find 
lover  some  day  when  you  go  away.  You  'quainted 
wiz  he  now,  only  you  don't  know  he  be  lover.  Your 
mother  she  ha'  lots  trouble — more'n  you  ever  have. 
But  you  ha'  some.  You  gi'  me  more  money.  I  tell 
you  'bout  it.  No?  Ah,  missy  ought  to  know  'bout 
danger.  You  need  gypsy  to  tell  you  how  Void  it — 
No?  Better  yes.  You  want  to  find  out  some  day. 
Gypsy  fortune  teller  won't  be  here  zen." 

"But  I  haven't  any  more  money  with  me,"  said 
Mamie.    "Maybe  the  girls  have  some.    You  wait  till 
I  run  over  and  see." 
VS— 14 


210  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

"All  right.     I  wait." 

There  was  a  short  silence  while  Mamie  ran  up 
the  bank  to  where  the  other  girls  were.  In  the  old 
boathouse  there  was  a  slight  stir. 

"Let's  yell,"  said  Larry,  "and  startle  the  old 
woman  out  of  her  senses  if  she's  got  any,  before 
Mamie  gets  back  and  wastes  another  perfectly  good 
quarter." 

"No,  don't.  Keep  still  till  we're  sure  of  having  all 
the  fun  out  of  it  there's  going  to  be.  I  wouldn't 
have  missed  this  for  a  farm,"  Ned  whispered  back. 

"Guess  it  will  be  memorable  enough  to  suit  even 
Sarah,"  put  in  Macy.  "By  the  way,  Sam,  there's  no 
getting  round  it,  you've  got  to  invite  us  to  the  wed- 
ding." 

"Treats,  give  us  the  treats,  Sam,"  from  Macy. 

"Listen,  there  comes  somebody  else  down  the 
road,"  Sam  announced,  more  anxious  to  divert  their 
attention  from  himself  than  from  any  sense  of  curi- 
osity as  to  the  newcomer.  "Who  is  it?" 

"I  don't  know.  Some  country  frau,  I  judge," 
answered  Billy.  "Say,  but  she's  some  looker,  ain't 
she?  And  the  youngster  looks  like  if  he  ever  had 
a  bath  he  took  it  in  the  swill  pail." 

As  a  matter  of  fact  Lu,  coming  around  the  bend 
in  view  of  the  old  boathouse  at  that  instant,  had,  for 
the  time  being,  almost  forgotten  about  the  gypsy,  so 
absorbed  was  she  in  her  search  for  the  lost  baby's 
parent.  She  might  even  have  been  oblivious  to  her 
own  ridiculous  garb  had  it  not  been  for  the  slipshod 
old  shoes  which  threatened  to  fall  off  with  each  step, 


EYES,  EARS,  KNOT  HOLES,  AND  CREVICES  211 

and  the  troublesome  long  skirt.  The  child,  clinging 
to  her  hand,  had  ceased  its  sobbing  and  was  cooing 
a  contented  little  song,  the  while  giving  an  occa- 
sional stamp  with  one  or  the  other  of  its  small,  bare, 
brown  feet,  to  make  an  impression  of  its  toes  in  the 
warm  sand.  Up  on  the  little  hillock  the  girls  gave 
one  simultaneous  exclamation,  clapped  their  hands 
and  handkerchiefs  to  their  mouths,  and  dropped 
with  one  accord  on  the  grass  behind  the  low  bushes. 
Mamie,  having  used  the  money  ruse  to  make  her  es- 
cape to  gasp  out  under  her  breath  between  bursts  of 
muffled  laughter:  "Oh,  girls,  I  got  away  just  in 
time !  I  never  could  have  stood  it  if  she — if  she  had 
happened  along  before  I  got  away.  I'd  have  died  to 
laugh  in  spite  of  myself." 

"Where  on  earth  did  she  pick  up  that  frightfully 
dirty  youngster?"  gasped  Janey. 

"The  disguise  is  sure  complete,"  answered  Sarah, 
with  a  giggle  that  threatened  to  awaken  suspicion. 

But  the  gypsy,  alert  for  a  new  victim  of  her  magic 
arts,  lost  no  time. 

"Your  fortune,  my  lady?  Gypsy  tell  your  fortune? 
You  need  gypsy  to  tell  you  good  fortune.  You  not 
happy.  You  in  trouble.  Cross  gypsy's  palm — she 
tell  you  things  you  want  to  know.  Fine  leetle  child 
that.  Bea-u-tiful  baby.  Look  like  hees  mother.  Let 
gypsy  tell  your  fortune? — eh,  yes? 

(Somewhat  taken  aback  by  the  phenomenal  suc- 
cess of  her  disguise  (for  it  may  be  noted  that  in  the 
secrecy  of  her  own  mind  the  girl  had  had  grave 
doubts  of  the  result  of  her  undertaking),  Lu's 


212  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

gravity  was  now  so  nearly  upset  as  to  almost  inca- 
pacitate her  for  the  further  performance  of  the  dif- 
ficult role  she  had  undertaken  to  play.  Not  know- 
ing what  else  to  do  in  this  startling  emergency, 
she  stooped  low  in  pretense  of  brushing  dirt  which 
was  by  no  means  imaginary,  from  the  child's  apron, 
endeavoring  on  the  instant  to  gather  her  scattered 
forces  and  restore  innocence  and  gravity  to  her 
countenance.  When  she  again  raised  her  head 
slowly  she  fumbled  in  her  pocket  for  a  moment,  and 
taking  from  it  a  quarter,  placed  it  in  the  gypsy's 
palm. 

"Yes,  kind  gypsy,"  she  murmured  in  a  subdued 
tone,  and  dropping  her  eyelids  to  hide  the  mischief, 
"here  is  the  money — tell  me  a  good  fortune.  And 
please — will  you  tell  me  where  my  husband  is?" 

The  low  tone,  the  drooping  of  the  long  lashes, 
served  the  double  purpose  of  hiding  Lu's  inward 
mirth  and  deceiving  the  old  gypsy  into  believing 
them  to  be  marks  of  sorrow  and  trouble,  and  ex- 
citedly and  eagerly  she  caught  at  the  bait  the  girl 
had  so  cunningly  thrown  out. 

"You  in  trouble,  poor  lady.  You  man  gone  left 
you?  You  in  dreadful  trouble!  Poor,  poor  lady," 
shaking  the  head  and  sighing.  "Your  man  bad 
wicked  man  to  go  off  and  leave  sweet  lady  and  lit'le 
boy.  He  done  left  you,  dearie?  It  good  thing  you 
come  to  gypsy.  Gypsy  woman  tell  you  what  to  do. 
She  help  you  out  of  trouble." 

A  big  brown  toad,  hopping  across  the  road  a»  that 
instant,  the  child  loosened  its  hold  of  Lu's  hano  and 


EYES,  EARS,  KNOT  HOLES,  AND  CREVICES    213 

set  off  at  once  for  the  purpose  of  making  an  investi- 
gation of  this  queer,  warty  specimen  of  animal  life. 

"Can't  you  please  tell  me?"  and  Lu,  to  evade  the 
gypsy's  keen  look,  turned  her  eyes  out  toward  the 
lake,  her  voice  carrying  thus  straight  to  the  six 
pairs  of  listening  ears  in  the  old  boathouse.  "Won't 
you  please,"  insistently,  "tell  me  where  my  husband 
is?" 

"By  gracious,  fellows,  it's  Lu!"  ejaculated  Billy 
in  an  undertone,  the  first  to  recognize  her  voice. 
"Shades  of  night,  she's  trying  to  fool  the  old  hag!" 

A  low  exclamation  escaped  from  the  lips  of  each 
one  of  the  boys  as  they  in  turn  recognized  her. 

"Making  a  good  job  of  it,  too,  or  I'll  eat  my  hat," 
declared  Sam  Gates.  "Say,  boys,  this  is  the  richest 
thing  yet." 

"Nothing  gullible  about  Lu,"  said  Ned,  with 
brotherly  pride.  "She's  in  for  showing  the  girls  it's 
all  a  fake,  and  you  can  always  bank  on  her  doing  any- 
thing up  right  and  proper  when  she  goes  at  it. 
She'll  fool  that  old  gypsy  to  a  finish — look  at 
her " 

"Sh-h!" 

Silence  again,  smothered,  breathless  silence  in  the 
old  boathouse.  The  gypsy  went  on : 

"You  ha'  heaps  o'  trouble,  ain't  you,  dearie  ?  Your 
man  he  have  trouble  in  business.  He  no'  like  it.  He 
go  'way.  Aint  zat  so,  dearie?  You  like  him.  He  no' 
leave  you  'cause  he  no'  like  you.  He  discouraged. 
He  meet  losses.  Ain't  zat  so,  dearie,  now  ain't  zat 
so?" 


214  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

"Some  doubts  there/'  murmured  Billy.  "You  bit 
too  quick,  old  lady;  no  getting  out  of  it  now.  You 
have  swallowed  bait,  hook,  and  all." 

"Better  dash  for  the  driftwood,  Mrs.  Earrings," 
was  Ned's  suggestive  whisper. 

"Why,  you  say  it's  so,"  Lu  was  answering  with 
some  difficulty,  "but — but,"  lowering  her  voice  again, 
"I  would  like  so  much  to  know  where  he  is  now.  Can't 
you  tell  me  that?" 

"Oh,  he  gon  'way,"  said  the  gypsy  hastily,  "yes, 
he  gone  'way — but  not  very  far — no,  not  very.  He 
discouraged  and  worried  over  hees  business.  He  no' 
like  your  people  very  well.  They  make  trouble.  But 
he  come  back  fin'lly.  He  like  you  anyway.  Some  day 
he  strike  fortune — make  lots  money — zen  he  come 
back — bring  money  an'  fine  things,  buy  nice  home — 
make  you  very  happy  again.  Get  you  lots  beau-u-ti- 
ful  things — lacy  curtains — ribbons — yes,  he  come 
back  again.  Poor  lady  mustn't  grieve." 

"How  long  must  I  wait?"  Lu  asked,  endeavoring 
to  mold  her  expression  into  one  of  such  patient  resig- 
nation and  waiting  as  to  nearly  cause  an  uncontrol- 
lable outburst  from  the  boys. 

"Oh,  not  so  very  long  time — one  year,  maybe  two 
— maybe  he  wait  three.  But  he  come  back  sure — not 
longer  zan  three  years  he  wait.  You  do  well  to  ask 
ze  gypsy  lady.  You  give  her  more  silver,  she  tell 
you  a  lot  more  you  ought  to  know." 

Lu  shook  her  head.  "No  more  money,  gypsy 
lady,"  she  said,  smiling  in  spite  of  herself.  "You've 


EYES,  EARS,  KNOT  HOLES,  AND  CREVICES  215 

told  me  enough  so  I  think  I  can  wait  very  well  till 
he  comes  or  I  find  him." 

"Ze  gypsy  lady  she  give  you  full  life  reading — only 
one  dollar — heap  good  things  she  tell  you.  You  hus- 
band he  come  back,  an' — an'  you  be  very  happy,  but 
you  must  heed  what  gypsy  tell  you — might  miss  all 
ze  happiness  if  you  don't  find  out  what  gypsy  lady 
knows.  You  pay  her  dollar,  she  tell  you  everything." 

"No,  no,  gypsy,"  Lu  protested,  moving  back,  "I 
haven't  any  more  money  for  you.  Besides  I  think 
you've  told  me  all  I  need  to  know.  I  really  believe 
after  your  telling  me  this  I  can  get  along  very 
nicely."  She  was  laughing  outright. 

"It's  very  encouraging  I  must  say — no,  no  more 
money  to-day.  I  must  be  going " 

Suddenly  within  the  old  boathouse  there  arose  a 
chorus  of  yells  equal  to  the  war  whoop  of  a  dozen 
Comanches,  and  six  boys  in  muddy  bathing  suits, 
tumbled  over  each  other  in  promiscuous  fashion 
down  through  the  inner  entrance  and  into  the  clear 
waters  of  the  lake.  Two  frightened  squirrels  sprang 
from  the  boathouse  roof  to  the  nearest  limb  that  of- 
fered means  of  escape,  and  never  stopped  till  they 
had  reached  safety  in  the  very  top  of  the  great  cot- 
tonwood.  A  startled  gypsy  made  haste  for  her  camp, 
her  red  scarf  trailing  behind,  earrings  bobbing 
angrily,  and  her  lips  muttering  imprecations  and 
threats.  Peals  of  girlish  laughter  rang  out  from  the 
neighborhood  of  the  bushes  on  the  low  hillock,  while 
the  dismayed  Lu,  dropping  the  loose  shoes  from  her 
feet,  and  gathering  the  detested  skirts  in  both  hands, 


216  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

fled  back  along  the  road  in  dire  chagrin  and  con- 
fusion. Even  the  warty  toad  took  alarm  and  hopped 
with  all  speed  to  the  shelter  of  an  old  decayed  stump. 
Only  a  bewildered  childish  figure  in  dirty  blue  calico 
frock,  looking  first  one  way  and  then  another  with 
wondering,  innocent  eyes  at  all  this  commotion,  was 
left  on  the  scene.  Finding  himself  left  thus  alone, 
his  face  began  to  pucker  into  pathetic  contortions; 
then,  as  if  thinking  better  of  the  matter,  he  sat  down 
and  played  contentedly  in  the  sand,  until  down  the 
road  came  a  stout,  red-faced  woman  in  blue  calico 
dress,  a  counterpart  in  color  and  pattern  of  the  frock 
worn  by  the  child,  minus  neither  dirt  nor  patches, 
and  with  the  not  altogether  gentle  persuasiveness  of 
a  little  willow  switch  induced  him  to  return  with  her 
to  a  small  cabin  set  back  among  the  trees. 


AN  INFORMAL  ANNOUNCEMENT  217 

CHAPTER  20 
AN  INFORMAL  ANNOUNCEMENT 

HELLO,  LU!  Found  that  recreant  husband 
yet?"  Billy  hailed  her  teasingly,  heading 
the  others  as  they  came  straggling  up  the 
hill  to  the  cook  tent  at  noontime. 

Lu  was  once  more  her  usual  picture  of  neatness, 
immaculate  in  a  clean  blue  gingham  dress  and  white 
apron,  with  her  hair  carefully  arranged,  though 
straying  wisps  of  the  brown  locks  would  rebelliously 
escape  from  their  fastenings  and  curl  bewitchingly 
about  the  white  neck  and  forehead.  The  cheeks  were 
flushed  and  rosy  pink  just  now,  and  the  bright  eyes 
were  still  sparkling  with  excitement. 

"Given  it  up.  What's  the  use?  Besides  he's  not 
worth  it  anyhow,"  she  retorted,  flying  from  camp 
fire  to  cook  table  to  drain  the  potatoes,  and  com- 
mencing to  exercise  the  potato  masher  in  a  series  of 
rhythmic  thumps.  "If  he  has  to  be  gone  two  or  three 
years,  there  is  no  use  bothering  about  him  for  the 
present,  and  I  am  better  occupied  spending  my  time 
getting  my  own  bread  and  butter." 

"Poor  lady,  mustn't  grieve !"  Billy  mimicked  the 
gypsy  with  such  indescribable  drollery  as  to  set  the 
entire  group  off  in  a  peal  of  merriment.  "He  not 
very  far  away — no,  not  very.  He  worried  over  hees 
troubles;  but  he  come  back  fin'lly.  Let  gypsy  tell 


218  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

you  more.  Tell  you  some  things  little  lady  ought 
to  know,"  he  urged,  coaxingly. 

"Oh,  do  go  away,"  Lu  protested  in  some  embar- 
rassment, and  raising  the  potato  masher  in  a  threat- 
ening manner,  which  Billy  dodged  with  mock  con- 
cern. "How  can  you  expect  a  body  to  get  dinner 
ready  with  you  bothering  like  this?" 

"Is  that  the  way  you  treated  him?  No  wonder  he 
was  unhappy,  poor  man,  if  you  threatened  to  throw 
potato  mashers  at  him.  He  perhaps  wasn't  accus- 
tomed to  such  treatment;  but  say,"  Billy  went  on, 
keeping  an  eye  on  guard  as  to  the  whereabouts  of 
Lu's  weapon  while  he  straightened  out  one  of  the 
brown  locks  which  curled  over  her  ear,  "how  in  the 
name  of  conscience  did  you  ever  get  these  all  flat- 
tened out  and  pasted  down  in  that  stick-' em-tight 
fashion?" 

"Just  a  little  magic  art  of  my  own,  a  pull  and  a 
twist,  and  presto  change!"  replied  Lu,  bending  her 
head  out  of  his  reach,  and  stopping  her  exertions 
for  a  moment  to  pour  some  cream  into  the  kettle  of 
potatoes.  "Want  me  to  try  it  again  ?" 

"No,  no — you  may  leave  the  magic  art  alone  if  it 
works  like  that.  Think  I  have  a  decided  preference 
for  this  style  of  hairdressing."  Billy  was  looking 
down  at  her  with  a  half-amused,  half-abstracted 
expression.  "Lu,  you'd  make  a  veritable  Cinder- 
ella." 

"Yes,  I  have  been  able  to  find  but  one  of  my  bor- 
rowed shoes,"  the  girl  agreed,  "but  I  lacked  the 
pumpkin  and  the  rats." 


AN  INFORMAL  ANNOUNCEMENT  219 

"Of  course  the  prince  will  bring  the  shoe  back," 
said  Robert,  who  with  one  of  the  other  boys  was  at 
one  side  filling  up  the  large  wash  basins  prepara- 
tory to  'plunging  sunburned  faces  and  hands  into 
the  refreshing  water. 

"Or  rather  that  vagrant  husband,"  laughed  Billy. 
"When  he  returns,  Lu,  let  us  know.  We'll  come  to 
the  banquet,  for  of  course  you'll  prepare  one  in  his 
honor  with  some  of  that  money  he's  to  bring/'  he 
added  tantalizingly,  pulling  another  curl  out  over 
her  cheek. 

"Will  you  let  me  alone?  If  you  haven't  anything 
else  to  do  you  may  mash  these  potatoes,"  said  the 
girl,  putting  the  curl  back  in  place  and  promptly 
transferring  the  potato  masher  into  his  hand.  "You 
may  just  as  well  be  useful  as  otherwise.  Some- 
thing's burning,  I  do  believe." 

"I  like  your  dinner  dress  much  better  than  your 
morning  attire,  Lu,"  remarked  Larry,  who  was 
drying  his  tousled  head  with  a  big  crash  towel  as 
Lu  darted  past  him  on  her  way  to  Sarah's  aid. 
"You're  some  costumer,  though.  You'd  make  money 
designing " 

"Say,  girls,  make  Sam  invite  us  all  to  the  wed- 
ding," Billy  interrupted,  pausing  in  the  operation  of 
leisurely  wielding  the  potato  masher.  "He  and 
Sarah  might  fittingly  and  properly  turn  this  last 
day  of  our  social  gathering  into  an  announcement 
party." 

"That  we  could,  with  very  good  grace,  if  we  chose 
to,  and  with  more  certainty  than  it  appears  to  be  in 


220  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

the  case  of  some  others,"  Sam  retorted  with  the 
effect  of  silencing  Billy  for  a  full  three  minutes. 

"What  about  it,  Janey?"  queried  Macy,  daringly. 

Janey's  face  wore  an  inscrutable  look,  but  before 
she  had  time  to  answer,  with  brotherly  considera- 
tion Ned  intervened :  "Well,  if  the  old  gypsy  hit  the 
truth  in  Janey's  case  as  nearly  as  she  did  in  Lu's,  I 
think  there  are  a  few  guesses  coming  yet."  At  which 
remark  one  young  man's  face  brightened  perceptibly 
and  another's  fell. 

"It's  all  a  fake.  Didn't  I  tell  the  girls  so  before? 
Anyhow,  Lu,  you  have  the  credit  of  duping  the 
gypsy,  and  I'm  glad  we  have  one  sensible  girl  in 
the  crowd,"  said  Macy. 

"Do  hurry,  boys  and  girls,  I'm  hungry  as  a  wolf," 
cried  Larry.  "It's  been  six  hours  since  breakfast 
and  I've  almost  forgotten  what  a  fritter  tastes  like." 

"Well,  it's  ready,"  said  Lu,  coming  back  with  the 
bread  and  a  dish  of  beans  for  the  table,  "as  soon 
as  Billy  gets  the  potatoes  dished  up." 

"Do  I  have  to  do  that,  too?"  asked  that  young 
man.  "I  thought  I  was  only  to  do  the  pounding  act. 
How  do  you  go  at  it?  Pour  'em  out?" 

"Here's  a  spoon,  and  don't  daub  them  over  the 
sides  of  the  dish,"  cautioned  his  adviser. 

"In  harmony  with  Billy's  suggestion,"  Sam  began 
suddenly  in  the  first  lull  that  came  in  the  conver- 
sation when  the  group  were  seated  around  the  table, 
"since  the  fates  and  the  gypsy  conspire  to  tell  tales 
on  us,  and  the  crowd  won't  give  us  any  peace,  my 
fair  fiancee  and  I  have  decided  that  we  may  as  well 


AN  INFORMAL  ANNOUNCEMENT       221 

announce  to  our  overcurious  friends  that  the  mo- 
mentous date  is  set  for  November  30. 

"Whew!"  ejaculated  Larry. 

"Oh,  oh !"  giggled  Meta. 

"I  told  you  the  gypsy  could  tell,"  cried  Dora. 

"I  say  we  owe  this  one  a  debt  of  gratitude,"  re- 
marked Macy. 

"No,  no,"  cautioned  Billy,  sagely,  "think  of  all 
the  debts  we  must  incur  by  reason  of  wedding  pres- 
ents. How  rash  we  were  in  precipitating  this  upon 
our  heads." 

"Always  the  finances,"  laughed  Robert. 

"Too  late  to  retract  now,"  declared  Sam,  com- 
placently. "Sarah  and  I  shall  expect  nothing  less 
than  real  silver  and  cut  glass." 

"Plenty  of  that  around  our  yard,"  put  in  Larry. 
"I  cut  my  hand  on  a  piece  of  it  last  week." 

"Larry!"  said  his  sister,  reprovingly. 

"Well,  well,"  exclaimed  Billy,  suddenly,  "we've  all 
been  so  excited  over  Sam's  announcement  we've 
nearly  forgotten  to  respond  with  our  congratulations 
to  this  happy  couple.  Here's  to  them  both.  Long 
may  they  live  to  enjoy  the  fulfillment  of  the  gypsy's 
prediction  (however  preposterous  it  may  appear)  of 
Sarah's  good  cooking  and  Sam's  diamonds." 

Merry  shouts  and  long-continued  applause  fol- 
lowed Billy's  toast.  It  subsided  after  a  few  moments 
and  the  conversation  was  suddenly  turned  into  more 
sober  channels  by  a  reflection  upon  Ned's  part. 

"There's  just  one  thing  about  this  affair  that  I 
don't  understand,"  he  began  seriously,  as  he  took  a 


222  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

plentiful  helping  of  beans.  "How  could  the  gypsy 
hit  things  so  well  in  some  instances  and  then  fly  so 
wide  of  the  mark  in  others?  Either  some  one  has 
given  her  a  clew  or  there  is  something  magic  or  su- 
pernatural about  it.  I  don't  see  how  she  could  make 
up  all  that  stuff,  and  if  she  can  discern  and  predict, 
why  doesn't  she  do  it  right  straight  through?" 

"Mind  reading,"  suggested  one. 

"Well,  she  made  a  frightful  failure  of  it  in  Lu's 
case,"  said  Ned. 

"I  believe  the  solution  is  easy  enough,"  said  Mrs. 
Clayton,  feeling  it  was  an  opportune  time  for  her  to 
speak,  "and  do  you  know  I  think  Lu  has  helped  us 
to  learn  a  very  valuable  lesson,  if  we  but  take  note 
of  it. 

"God,  for  a  wise  purpose,  known  to  himself,"  she 
went  on,  "has  veiled  our  future.  It  is  better  that  we 
should  not  know  what  that  future  holds  for  us  except 
that  which  he  chooses  to  reveal  of  his  own  accord  and 
in  his  way.  Enoch  by  his  great  faith  was  able  to  look 
down  through  the  years  and  the  centuries,  even  see- 
ing the  working  out  of  events  to  the  end  of  time.  He 
received  his  knowledge  of  the  future  through  the 
only  true  and  rightful  source,  that  of  God  himself. 
The  record  tells  us  of  circumstances  where  men  in 
olden  times  because  of  sin  were  deprived  of  the 
privilege  they  had  enjoyed  of  communion  with  God 
and  turned  to  sorcery  and  witchcraft  for  their  infor- 
mation. You  will  notice,  too,  that  of  ttimes  they  got 
the  truth ;  but  while  the  Evil  One  may  be  able  to  pre- 
dict truthfully  some  things,  you  will  nearly  always 


AN  INFORMAL  ANNOUNCEMENT      223 

discover  that  he  so  mixes  falsehood  with  it  as  to  con- 
fuse and  mystify,  in  consequence  making  the  de- 
ception all  the  greater." 

"But  do  you  really  think  Satan  has  anything  to 
do  with  a  gypsy's  fortune  telling?"  asked  Sarah  in 
some  awe. 

"Not  necessarily;  he  may  or  he  may  not.  One  is 
not  always  able  to  determine,"  Mrs.  Clayton  replied. 
"But  whether  he  has  or  has  not,  we  are  at  least  sure 
of  this  much,  the  source  of  her  power,  whatever  it 
may  be,  is  not  from  God,  for  it  is  not  given  in  his 
appointed  way  nor  by  his  sanction." 

"Goodness,  if  I  thought  Satan  had  anything  to  do 
with  it,  I'd  never  have  mine  told  again,"  said  Meta, 
her  eyes  widening. 

"I  have  no  doubt  but  what  he  avails  himself  of 
every  means  that  can  assist  him  in  his  purpose," 
said  Mrs.  Clayton;  "it  is  perhaps  only  to  a  very 
limited  extent  in  this  case.  The  gypsy,  once  strik- 
ing a  clew,  by  her  own  shrewdness  in  watching  a 
countenance,  can  easily  follow  it,  and  with  surprising 
success.  Whatever  she  tells  must  be  either  through 
evil  or  by  her  own  cunning.  It  cannot  be  from  God." 

"Do  you  think  there  is  any  danger  or  harm  in  it, 
Mrs.  Clayton?"  asked  Janey. 

"Only  so  far  as  anything  which  is  misleading  may 
be  harmful  and  dangerous.  We  should  not  give  it 
credence,  and  we  are  not  so  safe  when  we  meddle 
with  such  things,  since  they  are  apt  to  create  doubt 
and  confusion  in  the  mind." 


224  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

The  entire  group  grew  serious  and  thoughtful  as 
they  discussed  it  for  a  time,  and  the  lesson  sank 
deeper  in  the  hearts  of  some  than  they  manifested ; 
but  the  bubbling  spirits  of  youth  do  not  long  re- 
main in  repression  and  the  conversation  soon  drifted 
again  to  lighter  topics. 

There  was  not  a  moment  lost  or  wasted  that  after- 
noon. Every  precious,  golden  one  was  filled  with 
wholesome  recreation.  Not  till  the  sun  sank  low 
in  the  west  did  they  begin  the  work  of  gathering  to- 
gether and  packing  their  camping  outfits,  and  the 
return  trip  home  was  made  "by  the  light  of  the  sil- 
very moon,"  as  Billy  had  decreed. 


"ACCORDING  AS  IT  IS  WRITTEN"  225 

CHAPTER  21 

"ACCORDING   AS    IT   IS    WRITTEN" 

IN  EVERY  local  organization  of  the  church  there 
is  a  vital  force  which,  properly  energized  and 
wisely  directed,  may  accomplish  much  good  and 
make  its  influence  widely  felt  in  the  vicinity.  Cen- 
tralizing its  energy  and  uniting  its  efforts,  it  may 
make  itself  a  more  potent  factor  in  the  erecting  of 
high  ideals  and  standards  than  can  any  other  local 
organization.  None  can  excel  it  in  its  far-reaching 
influence,  for  the  reason  that  back  of  it  ever  stands 
the  divine  wisdom  and  power  ready  to  indorse  and 
multiply  its  efforts.  Backed  by  this  potent  force, 
united  under  it,  receiving  its  sanction  and  support, 
it  may  become  invincible  in  its  strength,  which  no 
power  raised  against  it  shall  be  able  to  overthrow. 

Such  can  only  be  true  in  the  full  sense  with  a 
branch  of  God's  church  when  its  members  are  united, 
when  they  are  ready  to  stand,  with  purpose  un- 
selfish, shoulder  to  shoulder,  and  with  hearts  in- 
clined to  hearken  to  the  commandments,  command- 
ments long  since  inscribed  by  the  prophets  of  old, 
reiterated  from  time  to  time  by  the  Lord's  servants 
in  latter  times,  and  daily  confirmed  in  the  hearts  of 
his  faithful  ones  by  the  voice  of  the  Spirit  as  it 
breathes  its  quiet  whisperings  to  the  inner  con- 
sciousness. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  also  just  as  true,  that 
VS— 15 


226  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

wherever  there  is  this  centralized  power  and  effort, 
there  also  will  the  enemy  strike  his  heaviest  blows. 
Men  engaged  in  military  warfare  understand  well 
this  principle,  but  in  the  sense  of  security  which 
numbers  bring,  we  are  apt  to  lose  sight  of  this  fact 
in  our  spiritual  warfare.  The  enemy  seeks  always 
to  discover  the  strongholds,  to  reach  within  and  con- 
fuse, distract,  scatter,  knowing  well  that  by  so  doing 
he  has  traveled  a  long  way  towards  victory. 

In  the  constant  battle  that  is  being  waged  between 
the  forces  of  right  and  truth  and  those  of  sin  and 
error,  the  situation  is  much  the  same.  Whenever  a 
good  work  is  undertaken  or  begun,  the  enemy  with 
his  unseen  forces  literally  encamps  round  about,  and 
so  long  as  he  can  be  kept  without,  so  long  as  the 
gates  are  securely  barred  and  the  walls  fortified, 
there  is  safety ;  but  let  a  bar  be  left  down  or  a  gate 
unlocked,  and  he  be  allowed  to  slip  in  and  stir  up  dis- 
cord, suspicion,  dissension,  doubt,  within  the  strong- 
hold, there  is  cause  for  alarm;  for  though  all  the 
hosts  of  evil  may  not  prevail  against  a  loyal  and 
faithful  band,  yet  if  disunited  and  disloyal  to  its 
commander,  it  is  soon  in  peril. 

Love  for  God  and  for  each  other  is  enjoined  upon 
us  in  the  two  great  commandments  upon  which, 
Christ  said,  hinge  all  other  laws,  and  if  as  branches 
and  individual  members  of  branches  we  took  time 
at  oft-stated  periods  to  stop  and  scrutinize  self  and 
make  a  consistent  effort  to  be  obedient  to  these  two 
commandments,  the  petty  differences,  foolish  back- 
bitings,  and  unchristianlike  envyings  and  malice 


"ACCORDING  AS  IT  IS  WRITTEN"  227 

might  be  banished  from  our  midst  and  Satan's 
power  be  held  in  check. 

To  none  other  of  the  members  are  these  facts  more 
evident  than  to  the  pastor.  No  one  else  can  realize 
as  he,  the  necessity  of  all  the  members  working  to- 
gether. More  keenly  than  anyone  else  he  senses  the 
harm;  that  is  done  by  the  petty  jealousies  or  the 
dishonest  acts,  the  little  discords,  and  the  magnitude 
of  their  results.  And  however  some  of  the  members 
may  consider  it,  the  position  of  a  pastor  is  not  an 
easy  one  to  fill.  Too  often  he  is  made  the  target  of 
unjust  remark,  of  scathing  criticism,  or  charged  with 
sinister  motives,  and  his  counsel  and  admonition  re- 
garded indifferently,  or  even  with  scorn. 

Robert's  experience  in  branch  work  was  not  alto- 
gether an  exception  to  the  rule.  The  branch  was 
new,  the  majority  of  its  members  but  recently  bap- 
tized, were  without  experience;  complications  and 
perplexities  arose  from  time  to  time,  and  matters 
had  to  be  adjusted  which  required  wisdom  and  tact, 
while  petty  little  faultfindings,  arising  seemingly 
from  nowhere  and  out  of  nothing,  had  their  share  in 
its  history.  Nevertheless,  the  young  man's  humble 
devotion  to  his  Master's  cause,  his  strong,  sympa- 
thetic nature  (which  while  carrying  with  it  dignity 
was  devoid  of  unseemly  pomp  or  pride) ,  and  his  deep, 
sincere  love  for  humanity,  combined  a  rare  person- 
ality which  easily  won  its  way  into  the  confidence  and 
hearts  of  his  flock  as  to  achieve  extraordinary  suc- 
cess. 

There  was  little  chance  in  Banforth  to  accomplish 


228  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

much  outside  of  the  branch  because  of  prejudice; 
but  wherever  a  country  schoolhouse  or  church 
afforded  an  opportunity  for  presenting  the  gospel 
message  to  the  people,  Robert  was  quick  to  take 
advantage  of  it.  These  appointments  often  necessi- 
tated long  rides,  sometimes  alone,  at  other  times  ac- 
companied by  Janey,  or  Mamie,  or  both.  On  these 
occasions  he  frequently  asked  the  girls  to  take  note- 
book and  pencil  along. 

"Just  to  jot  down  a  note  here  and  there,"  he 
said  one  evening  as  they  were  leaving  the  brown 
cottage,  "and  if  I  make  an  error  in  point  of  doctrine 
or  use  of  language,  give  me  the  benefit  of  your  criti- 
cisms. I  need  them,  and  that's  the  way  to  make  im- 
provement." 

"Promise  you  won't  take  offense?"  Janey  asked, 
half  jestingly,  as  he  helped  her  and  Mamie  into  the 
buggy.  "I  thought  we  were  supposed  to  commend 
a  minister  for  his  efforts  instead  of  criticize." 

"You'll  find  it  the  much  safer  policy,"  observed 
Lu,  who  came  running  down  to  the  gate  at  that  mo- 
ment with  the  forgotten  lap  robe.  "I  tried  to  act 
the  part  of  a  critic  with  Deacon  Rugby  once  and 
it  didn't  work.  I  wasn't  very  old  at  that  time  and 
Ned  had  just  read  to  me  the  story  of  'Merlin's  Neck- 
lace/ I  had  a  string  of  white  beads  and  there  lacked 
two  or  three  of  being  enough  to  reach  around  my 
neck.  I  wanted  some  more  badly,  and  thought 
maybe  if  I'd  tell  a  lot  of  truths  the  strand  would 
grow  longer,  like  the  little  girl's  in  the  story.  I 
started  out  on  Deacon  Rugby,  as  I  thought  he  needed 


"ACCORDING   AS  IT   IS  WRITTEN"  229 

some  truths  told  him  more  than  anybody  I  knew 
about.  I  felt  really  in  earnest  about  the  matter,  but 
I  wanted  to  be  diplomatic,  too,  so  I  told  the  deacon 
that  I  thought  his  sermons  would  be  just  splendid  if 
he  didn't  make  them,  so  awfully  long;  and  lovely, 
only  they  were  rather  dry ;  but  that  I  did  think  peo- 
ple would  like  'em  better  if  he'd  tell  a  little  more 
about  what  the  Lord  did  for  folks  and  less  about 
what  he  did  himself." 

'Why,  Lu!"  exclaimed  Janey  in  dismay,  as  Robert 
and  Mamie  laughed  outright,  "whenever  did  you  say 
such  things  as  that  to  the  deacon  ?" 

"Oh,  several  years  ago,"  Lu  replied,  tucking  the 
lap  robe  comfortably  about  her  sister's  feet.  "It 
was  very  impertinent  for  a  little  girl,  I  must  admit, 
though  I  was  perfectly  sincere  in  the  act  at  the  time. 
I've  grown  wiser,  for  the  strand  never  added  one 
bead,  and  the  deacon  didn't  seem  to  appreciate  it  at 
all.  In  fact,  I  don't  think  he  likes  me  to  this  day. 
The  next  Sunday  after  that  he  preached  on  'The 
disrespectfulness  of  the  rising  generation/  " 

"I  should  have  thought  he  would!"  laughed  Rob- 
ert, as  he  climbed  into  the  buggy.  "Rest  assured, 
Lu,  I'll  not  ask  you  to  be  my  critic." 

Lu  nodded  sagely.  "I'll  guarantee  I  can  do  better 
at  it  than  either  of  those  two,"  she  called  after  them. 

"I  think  I'll  take  the  risk  of  your  criticisms  any- 
how," Robert  remarked  earnestly  as  they  drove  on. 
"Seriously,  I  must  study  to  show  myself  approved, 
'a  workman  that  needeth  not  to  be  ashamed.'  Christ 
gave  to  us  the  best  he  had,  and  he  deserves  in  return 


230  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

the  best  service  we  can  give  him.  I  want  to  make 
every  word  I  utter  count  for  him,  that  I  may  give 
him  the  best  of  everything  at  my  command,  and  my 
words  may  be  blameless  in  his  sight.  If  I  do  not  give 
him  my  best  I  am  unworthy  to  be  his  servant." 

"I  am  sure  it  is  the  only  right  way,"  Janey  re- 
plied. "If  we  were  to  promise  to  work  for  any  com- 
pany or  firm  in  the  ordinary  affairs  of  business  life 
they  would  expect  us  to  render  efficient  service. 
How  much  more  painstaking  ought  we  to  be  when 
doing  special  work  for  Him!" 

Sometimes  when  an  appointment  was  made  a  con- 
siderable distance  from  town,  Billy  took  Robert  and 
a  load  of  young  people  out  in  the  car  and  the  occasion 
became  a  merry,  sociable  one.  One  of  these  times 
occurred  on  a  particularly  fine  autumn  morning 
when  the  roads  were  in  perfect  condition  and  the 
landscape  was  one  mass  of  variegated  foliage, 
mingled  shades  of  browns  and  greens  and  gold,  with 
here  and  there  a  tall  old  veteran  of  the  forest  re- 
splendently  festooned  in  the  scarlet  ivy.  Mr.  Gray- 
son,  always  anxious  to  find  a  new  place  where  the 
gospel  might  be  presented,  and  unable  that  week 
to  get  the  use  of  the  church  or  schoolhouse  near  his 
home,  bethought  himself  of  a  certain  out-of-the- 
way  country  church  some  fifteen  miles  southeast  of 
Banforth,  had  obtained  permission  for  a  preaching 
service  the  following  Sunday  morning,  and  Eobert 
had  consented  to  fill  it. 

There  was  no  appointment  for  services  at  home 
that  morning  and  since  the  Sunday  school  was  to 


"ACCORDING  AS  IT  IS  WRITTEN"  231 

be  held  in  the  afternoon,  Billy  took  Ned  and  his 
sisters,  and  Robert  and  Mamie  out  in  the  car.  It 
was  a  charming,  rustic  little  country  church,  set  well 
back  on  the  slope  of  a  hill,  sheltered  by  sturdy  oaks, 
and  rendered  picturesque  by  wild  vines,  which 
clambered  with  unrestrained  freedom  over  wall  and 
chimney  and  low-sagging  roof. 

Our  friends  arrived  a  little  early,  for  Sunday 
school  was  still  in  session,  and  as  quietly  as  possible 
they  went  in  and  waited  for  the  dismissal.  Slowly, 
however,  it  dragged  along,  and  the  time  for  Robert 
to  occupy  came  and  passed.  Still  the  superintend- 
ent manifested  no  intention  of  dismissal.  Twenty 
minutes  past  the  time  and  the  benediction  was 
leisurely  and  with  apparent  reluctance  pronounced. 
Immediately  Robert  took  his  place  in  the  pulpit,  de- 
termined that  it  would  not  be  his  fault  if  they  did 
not  hear  a  sermon  that  morning. 

From  the  songbooks  which  were  scattered  about 
in  the  seats,  a  familiar  hymn  was  selected  and  the 
meeting  opened.  Prayer  was  offered,  and  at  the  con- 
clusion of  another  hymn  Robert  opened  the  Bible  and 
proceeded  to  read  various  portions  of  the  Scriptures 
as  a  foundation  for  his  discourse.  It  was  at  this 
point  the  congregation  chose  to  show  their  disap- 
proval of  any  sermon  or  denomination  that  might  be 
classed  as  unorthodox  and,  save  the  group  who  had 
come  with  Robert  and  a  single  exception  among  their 
own  number,  rising  in  a  body,  they  filed  slowly  and 
majestically  out  of  the  building  into  the  yard,  where 


232  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

by  carriage  and  afoot  they  soon  dispersed  and  dis- 
appeared from  view  in  various  directions.  The 
"single  exception"  was  a  man  who  had  fallen  asleep 
while  the  first  words  of  the  text  were  being  read, 
and  he  now  remained  entirely  unconscious  of  his  sur- 
roundings, head  leaning  against  the  back  of  the  pew, 
and  open  mouth  emitting  a  series  of  well-measured 
snores. 

Quite  naturally  Robert's  sermon  was  a  brief  one 
that  morning,  while  but  partially  repressed  smiles 
played  about  the  features  of  his  youthful  audience. 
Fifteen  minutes  before  the  hands  of  the  clock  reached 
the  noon  hour  they  arose  to  sing  the  doxology,  and 
the  voices  of  the  half  dozen  singers  breaking  sud- 
denly upon  his  ears,  the  man  awoke  with  a  start, 
looked  around  the  church  in  a  half  frightened  way, 
and  seeing  that  all  his  brethren  and  friends  had  de- 
parted, leaving  him  alone  in  the  company  of  deluded 
strangers,  reached  for  his  hat  and  made  a  hurried 
exit.  The  young  people  left  in  the  church  found  it 
difficult  to  remain  sober  during  the  benediction. 

"Didn't  even  wait  to  tell  how  he  enjoyed  the  ser- 
mon," Ned  remarked,  when  at  last  they  laughed  and 
discussed  the  matter  freely. 

"I  fancy  you  can't  tell  what  the  text  is  yourself, 
Ned,"  challenged  Mamie. 

"That's  a  fact,"  said  Ned,  scratching  his  head. 
"Begging  your  pardon,  Robert,  but  the  side  attrac- 
tions were  distracting.  Besides,  I  didn't  know  but 
what  they  were  going  to  mob  us  for  a  little  while." 

"Peaceable  enough,"  said  Billy.    "All  they  wanted 


"ACCORDING  AS  IT  IS  WRITTEN"  233 

to  do  was  to  show  us  what  they  didn't  want ;  but  the 
innocent  old  sleeper  has  carried  away  more  of  the 
sermon  than  he  is  aware." 

"Billy,  what  was  that  you  did  with  his  sleeve?" 
asked  Lu  suspiciously. 

"Nothing  harmful  at  all.    I  only  pinned  a  paper 
there  for  his  future  profit  and  instruction." 
"And  what  instruction,  pray,  was  on  it?" 
"Only  a  verse  of  Robert's  scripture  reading." 
"For  goodness'  sake,  what  was  the  verse?"  ex- 
claimed Mamie. 

"This  eminently  fitting  one,  Mamie :  'According  as 
it  is  written,  God  hath  given  them  the  spirit  of  slum- 
ber, eyes  that  they  should  not  see,  and  ears  that  they 
should  not  hear,  unto  this  day.'  " 


234  A  VINEYARD  STORY 

CHAPTER  22 
IN  SHEEP'S  CLOTHING 

IN  THE  early  autumn  Billy  was  appointed  by 
the  church  authorities  as  bishop's  agent  of  the 
district  in  which  Banforth  was  located,  and  he 
and  Robert  became  still  more  closely  associated  in 
matters  connected  with  the  branch.  Unlike  as  they 
were  in  many  ways,  this  fact  seemed  only  to  draw 
them  together  and  cement  their  friendship.  Never- 
theless, while  Billy  loved  no  one  else  in  the  world, 
save  one,  so  much  as  Robert,  in  one  respect  there 
was  no  one  else  whom  he  so  much  feared.  And  if  for 
this  reason  he  withheld  all  confidences  concerning 
Janey,  other  subjects  were  discussed  heart  to  heart, 
and  no  perplexing  matter  of  branch  or  Sunday  school 
or  problem  of  daily  life  arose  with  one  which  was 
not  shared  by  the  other. 

Soon  after  his  appointment,  the  two  with  youthful 
zeal  began  to  talk  of  the  prospects  of  raising  funds 
with  which  to  buy  a  lot  and  build  a  church  at  once. 
A  hall  or  public  building  of  any  kind  was  not  avail- 
able for  their  use  in  the  town  without  great  expense, 
and  the  feasibility  of  building  was  considered.  Doubt- 
less their  plans  might  have  been  projected  at  once 
had  it  not  been  for  the  wise  counsel  of  Mrs.  Clayton, 
whose  experience  and  wisdom  showed  her  it  would 
be  folly  to  venture  such  an  undertaking  at  this 
juncture. 


IN   SHEEP'S  CLOTHING  235 

"I  think  it  would  be  better  to  wait  a  little  while, 
boys,"  she  advised.  "Remember,  all  the  families  of 
the  Saints  here  are  poor,  except  Farmer  Grayson; 
lumber  is  high,  a  good  location  will  cost  quite  a 
sum,  and  we  have  no  one  in  the  branch  who  is  capable 
of  going  ahead  and  superintending  the  construction." 

"But  the  park  will  soon  be  closed,"  argued  Robert, 
"and  when  it  turns  cold  we  shall  have  no  place  to 
meet  except  in  our  homes." 

"And  you  know,  Mother  Clayton,"  Billy  added, 
"people  don't  like  to  come  to  cottages  for  preaching 
services.  A  hall  or  a  church  or  a  public  place  is  the 
only  way  to  get  them  out." 

"I  know,  boys,"  she  replied,  "but  sometimes  it  is 
better  to  go  a  little  slowly  than  to  plunge.  The  time 
is  short  now  until  cold  weather  will  begin.  You  boys 
are  both  as  busy  as  you  can  possibly  be,  and  would 
have  no  extra  time  to  work  on  it  yourselves,  and  our 
family  has  but  little  money,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
others.  Robert,  we  know,  is  not  situated  so  he  can 
do  anything  in  a  financial  way  at  present,  and  I  do 
think  it  would  not  be  wise  for  the  few  of  us  to  go 
deeply  in  debt  as  such  an  undertaking  would  necessi- 
tate. You  know  the  Lord  does  not  sanction  that  kind 
of  proceeding,  and  has  advised  more  than  once  in 
such  things.  Let  us  move  a  little  more  slowly,  and 
do  the  best  we  can  with  what  we  have.  We  can  be- 
gin collecting  and  working  at  once,  and  perhaps  even 
buy  the  lot,  but  let  us  wait  to  build  until  we  have 
more  funds  on  hand.  The  Lord  will  bless  our  efforts 
if  we  are  careful  to  heed  his  advice." 


236  A  VINEYARD  STORY 

Wise  counsel,  as  both  young  men  soon  recognized, 
and  were  glad  they  had  listened.  Years  afterwards, 
when  Robert's  experience  had  widened  and  his  vi- 
sion broadened,  he  looked  back  upon  that  time  and 
wondered  more  than  once  how  much  of  the  success 
of  that  year's  work  he  could  rightfully  claim,  for  in 
addition  to  the  divine  aid  that  was  afforded  him, 
there  was  ever  back  of  him  in  the  time  of  difficulty 
the  spiritual  stay  and  strength,  the  wisdom  and 
caution  of  that  wonderful  mother,  whose  faith  never 
wavered  and  whose  love  for  the  cause  of  her  Master 
was  an  abiding  one. 

Things  moved  along  smoothly  enough  till  late  in 
the  fall,  when,  with  the  advent  of  a  new  family  into 
their  midst,  complications  began  to  arise  which 
threatened  to  disturb  their  peace  and  tranquillity. 
The  family  came  from  a  distant  part  of  the  State. 
Contrary  to  the  established  rule  of  the  church,  which 
requires  that  when  members  go  from  one  branch  to 
another,  the  letters  of  removal  shall  be  sent  by  the 
authorities  of  one  to  the  clerk  or  president  of  the 
other,  these  people  carried  their  letters  and  presented 
them  of  their  own  accord.  The  little  branch  in  Ban- 
forth  accepted  them  without  any  question,  rejoic- 
ing in  this  increase  of  their  number  and,  as  they 
trusted,  added  spiritual  strength. 

Mr.  Midsby,  the  head  of  this  family,  was  rather 
short  in  stature,  with  an  inclination  towards  stout- 
ness of  figure,  shoulders  that  drooped  heavily,  and 
a  slouching,  uncertain  gait,  that  resembled  more 
the  shambling  shuffle  of  a  grizzly  than  it  did  the  up- 


IN   SHEEP'S   CLOTHING  237 

right,  resolute  stride  of  a  man.  His  clothes  were  ill- 
fitting  and  often  untidy.  His  eyes,  small  and  deep- 
set  under  heavy,  dark  brows,  carried  a  sharp,  and  at 
times,  even  a  crafty  expression.  His  family  were 
all  of  that  mild,  passive  type  who  followed  meekly 
whither  he  led,  without  protest  or  complaint,  and 
accounted  his  words  as  law  and  gospel.  Far  from 
exhibiting  any  evidences  of  passivity,  Mr.  Midsby 
was  exceedingly  loquacious  and  aggressive.  He  had 
been  a  member  of  the  church  a  long  time,  and  hav- 
ing been  ordained  a  priest  some  years  before,  no 
sooner  was  he  a  member  of  the  Banforth  Branch 
than  he  declared  his  right  to  exercise  his  authority 
in  such  capacity,  and  endeavored  to  push  himself 
forward  wherever  opportunity  offered.  His  unpleas- 
ant personality  had  a  disquieting  and  unrestful  ef- 
fect upon  the  other  members,  who  at  first,  because  of 
his  pretensions,  had  looked  up  to  him  as  one  who 
would  be  a  great  helper.  Robert,  sincere  always  in 
his  own  actions,  free  from  hypocrisy,  and  altogether 
clean  in  habits,  was  not  quick  to  suspect  his  fellow 
man  and  brother.  He  therefore  welcomed  him  into 
their  midst  in  full  fellowship,  gladly  according  him 
the  right  to  occupy  as  priest,  feeling  that  such  help 
would  be  a  boon  indeed. 

It  was  not  long,  however,  till  he  began  to  have 
frequent  misgivings  which  he  felt  to  keep  to  himself. 
To  Billy  he  gave  the  credit  of  first  piercing  the  thin 
veil  of  false  piety  with  which  the  man  endeavored 
to  hide  his  real  nature.  Billy's  experience  with  the 
world,  with  men  and  money  matters,  and  his  situa- 


238  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

tion  in  the  bank  gave  him  an  advantage  in  this 
respect. 

"There's  something  wrong  about  that  fellow,  Rob- 
ert!" he  confided  one  day,  a  few  weeks  after  the 
Midsbys  had  moved  into  town.  The  two  were  walk- 
ing down  the  street  toward  Robert's  home  after 
working  hours.  ''Somehow  I've  felt  all  along  that 
he's  not  just  what  he  sets  himself  up  to  be.  He's  a 
trifle  too  officious  for  one  thing,  aifd  I  fear  he's  not 
quite  as  conscientious  about  paying  his  bills  as  a 
man  should  be." 

"I  can  hardly  believe  anything  very  bad  about 
him,"  Robert  said  thoughtfully,  "yet  I  must  admit 
that  some  things  he  has  done  are  not  at  all  according 
to  my  liking,  and,"  he  added  reluctantly,  "he  is  alto- 
gether too  boastful." 

"Aside  from  some  reports  coming  into  the  bank 
that  look  a  bit  dubious  for  his  honesty,  I  have  still 
another  suspicion  which,  if  proven  true,"  said  Billy, 
"will  disqualify  him  as  a  priest." 

"What's  that?"  asked  Robert. 

"Well,  I'm  not  dead  sure,  of  course,  and  we 
wouldn't  want  to  say  anything  without  more  evi- 
dence than  I  have ;  but  the  other  day  while  he  was 
writing  out  a  check  at  the  side  desk,  stepping  over 
to  replace  some  pens  in  the  rack  and  leave  a  pad  of 
deposit  slips,  I  caught  a  strong  odor  of  tobacco  on 
his  breath.  I  am  reasonably  certain  he  uses  it.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  his  whole  appearance  indicated  any- 
thing but  cleanliness,  and  it  strikes  me,  Robert,  that 


IN   SHEEP'S   CLOTHING  239 

a  man  trying  to  occupy  in  the  priesthood  ought  to 
be  a  little  more  particular." 

"You  are  right,"  Robert  agreed.  "A  man  has  no 
right  to  expect  that  he  shall  stand  before  the  people 
and  teach  gospel  principles,  and  not  make  an  honest 
endeavor  to  comply  with  them  himself.  The  fact 
of  his  trying  to  conceal  the  habit  appears  worse  to 
me  than  the  habit  itself.  But,"  he  added  more  anx- 
iously, "I  can  see  at  once  it  is  not  going  to  be  an  easy 
matter  to  handle.  The  man  is  much  older  than  you 
or  I,  he  has  been  a  long  time  in  the  church,  and  he  is 
almost  sure  to  resent  our  interference.  He  has  al- 
ready shown  some  tendency  that  way,  though  I  have 
been  as  careful  as  I  knew  how  to  prevent  any  such 
feeling.  However,  if  he  is  really  guilty  of  disobeying 
the  law  of  the  church,  we  must  find  out  and  deal  with 
him  without  delay,  no  matter  how  hard  it  may  be  for 
us." 

Now  thoroughly  on  his  guard,  Robert  was  not  long 
in  discovering  positive  evidence  in  accordance  with 
Billy's  suspicion,  and  was  deeply  worried  over  the 
effect  on  the  reputation  of  the  church  the  man's  ex- 
ample might  produce  in  the  vicinity.  The  work  of 
building  up  amid  prejudice  on  every  hand  had  all 
along  been  a  struggle,  and  Robert  was  well  aware 
that  one  individual  so  inclined  can  tear  down  faster, 
apparently,  than  a  dozen  can  build  up.  He  and  Billy 
talked  the  matter  over  seriously  a  number  of  times, 
and  at  last  determined  to  interview  him. 

Accordingly  one  evening  the  two  young  men  set 
out  together  on  their  unpleasant  mission  to  the 


240  A  VINEYARD  STORY 

Midsby  home.  Reluctant  as  they  felt,  and  disagree- 
able as  the  task  was  to  both,  they  hesitated  not  a 
moment,  but  upon  arriving  at  the  house  asked  for  a 
private  interview,  and  being  granted  it,  approached 
the  subject  in  a  frank  and  straightforward  manner. 
Angrily  at  first,  the  man  loudly  attempted  to  deny 
the  charges  made,  but  when  the  evidence  was  pro- 
duced he  subsided  after  a  little,  begged  volubly  for 
mercy,  and  promised  repeatedly  to  do  better  if  only 
his  name  be  not  permitted  to  go  before  higher  offi- 
cials of  the  church. 

With  these  promises  the  two  allowed  the  case 
to  rest  for  a  time,  but  while  the  man  outwardly  con- 
formed to  their  demands,  anger  and  resentment 
burned  fiercely  in  his  heart  and  he  cast  about  for  a 
way  of  revenge  which  would  in  nowise  incriminate 
himself  or  give  open  cause  for  blame  to  be  attached. 
Nor  was  he  long  in  finding  an  easy  way,  as  he 
thought,  to  gain  the  desired  end.  With  watchful, 
wary  eyes  he  made  a  discovery,  which  even  a  less 
observing  man  might  have  done  before. 

Underneath  the  strong  friendship  that  bound  Rob- 
ert and  Billy  together,  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
existing  rivalry.  Nothing  could  be  more  propitious 
for  his  scheme.  Working  upon  that,  he  would  de- 
stroy their  friendship  and  confidence  in  each  other, 
and  thus  separating,  disqualify  either  for  harmoni- 
ous, effective  work.  Since  because  of  his  position 
Robert  had  been  required  to  take  the  initiative  steps 
against  his  conduct,  he  desired  to  make  his  first  and 
keenest  thrust  at  him. 


IN  SHEEP'S  CLOTHING  241 

"Nothing  would  so  surely  estrange  them,"  he 
argued  to  himself,  "as  a  little  jealousy  over  a  girl," 
and  without  any  delay  set  himself  to  work  out  his 
plans. 

"Mighty  fine  girl  that  Miss  Warren,"  he  remarked 
casually  to  Billy  one  morning,  as  he  shuffled  into  the 
bank  just  as  Janey,  having  drawn  her  month's  wages 
and  deposited  a  portion,  was  leaving.  "Wonder  one 
of  you  smart  chaps  don't  carry  her  off." 

"Perhaps  so,  if  she  didn't  have  something  to  say 
about  it,"  responded  Billy,  carelessly. 

"Well,  I  allow  she  will  some  of  these  times,  and 
then  you'll  be  proud  as  Punch.  Reckon  you  may  per- 
suade her  by  the  time  school's  out,  eh?"  he  queried 
with  a  slight  leer  as  he  leaned  heavily  against  the 
ledge  of  the  assistant  cashier's  window. 

"Possibly."  Billy  made  the  reply  somewhat  ab- 
sently. He  was  accustomed  to  this  kind  of  banter 
and  was  at  that  moment  engaged  in  casting  up  a 
long  column  of  figures  and  paid  slight  attention  to 
what  the  man  was  saying. 

"From  the  rumors  flying  about  it  looks  like  it 
might  not  be  very  far  distant,"  remarked  the  cash- 
ier, Mr.  Brooks,  looking  up  at  that  moment. 

"Eh,  that  so  ?"  Mr.  Midsby  caught  the  suggestion 
eagerly.  It  was  agreeable  to  his  purpose,  and  he 
gave  another  sidewise  glance  at  the  assistant,  work- 
ing over  his  accounts.  "Well,  that'll  be  about  June 
time  I  reckon,  and  June's  a  fine  time  for  weddin's, 
ain't  it,  Billy?"  with  a  familiar,  patronizing  air. 

"Sure,  the  best  in  the  world,"  the  young  man  re- 
VS— 16 


242  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

plied,  closing  the  book  with  a  snap  and  coming  for- 
ward to  the  window  to  wait  upon  him. 

"That's  right,  I  knew  you'd  think  so,"  said  the 
man,  laughing  loudly,  and  added  as  he  placed  a  five- 
dollar  bill  in  his  pocketbook,  "Suppose  you'll  let  us 
know  in  time  to  get  ready  ?" 

"Oh,  of  course,"  the  other  answered,  with  slight 
sarcasm  in  his  voice,  as  he  waited  for  Mr.  Midsby 
to  get  out  of  the  way  of  another  customer.  "I'll  at- 
tend to  the  invitations  in  plenty  of  time.  Don't 
worry." 

These  off-hand  statements  and  the  cashier's  re- 
mark were  quite  sufficient  for  the  unscrupulous  man's 
purpose.  He  now  had  hold  of  something  with  which 
to  work.  He  judged  rightly  when  he  thought  Robert 
would  not  broach  the  subject  to  Billy,  and  further, 
if  he  let  out  the  information  as  coming  from  Billy 
himself  he  would  leave  no  room  for  doubt  in  Robert's 
mind  as  to  its  verity.  The  seeds  of  jealousy  and 
misunderstanding  once  sown,  he  would  then  work 
insidiously  to  keep  them  alive,  and  in  time  break 
asunder  entirely  their  friendship,  thus  weakening 
their  spiritual  progress  and  placing  himself  in  a  more 
favorable  light  with  the  others.  His  plan  working 
favorably  thus  far,  he  decided  to  make  no  delay  in 
carrying  it  forward.  With  this  intent  he  found  an 
excuse  to  call  on  one  of  the  farmers  not  far  from 
town  on  the  road  which  led  to  Farmer  Grayson's, 
making  it  convenient  to  return  in  the  evening  when 
Robert  would  be  coming  home  from  school.  As  he 


IN   SHEEP'S  CLOTHING  243 

climbed  into  the  little  roadster  at  Robert's  invitation 
he  was  unusually  talkative. 

"How's  things  coming  along  ?  School  doing  purty 
well  ?"  he  inquired  sociably,  as  the  little  bay  trotted 
along  at  a  good  pace.  It  was  already  growing  dusk 
and  the  air  of  the  February  evening  was  sharply 
cold. 

"Very  good,  indeed,"  replied  Robert,  who  was  grat- 
ified to  find  him  in  so  friendly  and  congenial  a  mood. 
He  felt  it  augured  well  for  the  man  who  could  receive 
a  reproof  and  show  a  kindly  spirit  so  soon.  "I  like 
teaching  even  better  than  I  thought  I  would  at  first, 
and  as  for  the  school  I  have,  don't  believe  there's  a 
better  one  in  the  State." 

"Fine!  fine!  Nothing  like  having  work  that's 
pleasant.  Reckon  you'll  be  laying  up  a  right  lively 
little  sum  in  store  for  the  future?"  he  ventured, 
affably. 

"Not  much  this  year.  Lots  of  expenses  here  and 
there,  and  a  few  debts  to  begin  with  for  last  year's 
schooling,  and  as  you  know,  I  bought  the  bay  and  the 
roadster  this  fall.  I  won't  much  more  than  get 
everything  paid  up  by  spring  and  the  future  will 
have  to  take  care  of  itself." 

"Ought  to  be  lookin'  around  and  makin'  choice 
among  these  purty  girls,"  the  man  remarked, 
blandly.  "Lots  o'  nice  girls  we  have  here.  Now 
there's  Billy  Gibson;  he's  right  sensible  to  make  a 
pick  o'  one  of  the  finest,  and  I  reckon,  if  rumor's 
true,  he  and  Miss  Warren'll  be  stepping  off  together 
before  long." 


244  A    VINEYARD    STORY 

"That  so?"  Robert  inquired,  lightly. 

In  the  dusk  Midsby  gave  him  a  keen  glance  out  of 
the  corner  of  his  eye  and  went  on : 

"Yes,  so  they  say,  and  he  inferred  quite  as  much  to 
me  to-day  himself.  I  gather  from  what  he  said  that 
it  will  likely  be  in  June,  though  he  didn't  say  just 
what  date." 

"I  see,"  replied  Robert,  briefly.  "Then  it  is  settled 
for  sure,"  was  his  inward  comment.  "In  reason  I  of 
course  knew  it  must  be." 

Midsby's  garrulous  tongue  rambled  off  to  the 
weather  and  other  topics,  until  the  short  half  mile 
was  covered  and  Robert  let  him  out  at  his  own  door. 

"Guess  that  job's  mighty  well  begun,"  the  man 
remarked  to  himself  with  inward  satisfaction,  as  he 
watched  him  drive  away.  "If  you  run  up  agin  old 
Midsby  a  few  times,  young  feller,  maybe  you'll  learn 
enough  sense  to  let  him  go  his  own  way  and  not  try 
your  highf  alutin'  airs  over  him." 


PUSSY  WILLOWS  245 

CHAPTER   23 
PUSSY   WILLOWS 

IT  was  a  warm  Saturday  morning  in  March;  one 
of  those  rare,  quiet,  sunny  days  which  our  blus- 
tery month  gives  us  occasionally  as  a  pleasant 
surprise,  a  forerunner  of  spring,  and  more,  a  fore- 
taste of  her  warmth  and  brightness.  Stormy,  disa- 
greeable days  are  yet  to  follow,  but  one  is  assured  it 
will  not  be  long  before  King  Winter  yields  his  scep- 
ter to  a  kinder  hand,  a  hand  which  rules  by  love,  and 
gently  wins  to  life  the  tender  leaf  and  blossom  which 
the  power  of  might  and  force  has  withered  and  swept 
to  earth. 

It  was  early  for  plowing,  though  winter  snows  had 
long  been  melted  and  the  mild  winds  had  taken  the 
frost  from  the  ground,  but  Robert  knew  the  days 
would  be  few  in  which  he  would  have  time  to  pre- 
pare the  soil  for  the  spring  gardening.  He  had  asked 
for  and  been  granted  by  the  school  board  the  promise 
of  a  two-week  vacation  in  April,  that  he  might  attend 
the  General  Conference  of  the  church,  hence  there 
would  be  only  two  or  three  Saturdays  remaining  be- 
fore he  would  leave. 

Thus,  with  plans  for  a  big  day's  work  he  had  arisen 
early  and  had  made  rapid  progress  clearing,  clean- 
ing, and  burning  the  trash  from  the  garden  plot  and 
yard.  The  morning  was  but  half  advanced  when  he 
finished  these  preliminaries,  and  he  was  just  ready  to 


246  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

hitch  the  little  bay  horse  to  the  plow,  congratulating 
himself  upon  the  speed  with  which  his  work  had  been 
dispatched,  when  his  mother  came  to  the  kitchen 
door  and  called : 

"A  telephone  message,  Robert,  from  Mr.  Carson. 
One  of  the  children  is  ill  and  he  wants  you  to  come 
right  away  and  administer,  I  think.  The  line  is  out 
of  order  and  I  couldn't  get  the  message  very  well. 
Perhaps  you'd  better  come  and  talk  to  him  yourself." 

"All  right,  mother;  I'll  be  there  in  a  moment," 
he  replied,  dropping  the  trace  he  was  just  fastening 
to  the  whiffletree  and  hastening  to  tie  the  horse  to 
the  nearest  fence  post. 

The  Carsons  were  a  family  of  Saints  that  had 
moved  out  of  Banforth  at  the  opening  of  the  month 
to  a  farm  some  three  or  four  miles  beyond  Farmer 
Grayson's.  Robert  succeeded  in  getting  the  message 
more  fully.  One  of  the  children  had  taken  suddenly 
ill.  They  desired  him  to  come  at  once.  Would  he 
also  stop  and  see  if  Miss  Warren  could  come  with 
him?  The  child  had  been  a  pupil  in  her  room  all 
winter  and  was  begging  to  see  her.  Robert  promised 
to  drive  out  at  once,  also  to  stop  at  the  cottage  and 
find  out  if  Miss  Wan-en  could  go. 

As  he  hastened  back  to  the  garden,  he  gave  but 
one  regretful  glance  at  his  unfinished  task  before 
untying  the  impatient  little  bay  and  leading  him 
away  to  harness  and  hitch  to  the  buggy.  This  done, 
he  returned  to  the  house  to  make  himself  ready.  His 
heart  gave  a  glad  bound  as  he  remembered  the 
promise  which  gave  him  an  excuse  for  stopping  at 


PUSSY  WILLOWS  247 

the  brown  cottage  and  possibly  the  opportunity  of 
taking  Janey  with  him.  Robert  had  seen  her  but 
little  during  the  last  month;  for  since  Mr.  Midsby 
had  told  of  her  engagement  to  Billy  he  had  not  called 
often,  and  it  had  chanced  when  he  had  done  so,  she 
was  either  away  or  had  been  very  busy. 

Notwithstanding  his  first  glad  thought  over  the 
prospect,  as  he  sprang  into  the  buggy  and  drove  out 
the  gate  he  considered  somewhat  soberly  the  prob- 
ability of  its  being  the  last  ride  they  would  ever  have 
together,  and  grimly  resolved  to  make  of  it  an  oppor- 
tunity to  express  his  good  wishes  for  her  happiness, 
and  renounce  forever  any  hopes  of  his  own  that  in 
the  past  had  found  place  in  his  heart. 

He  found  all  three  of  the  girls  in  the  kitchen; 
Lu  just  lifting  a  brown,  puffy  loaf  cake  from  the 
oven,  Madeline  washing  up  the  baking  dishes  and 
utensils,  and  Janey  at  the  ironing  board  near  the 
window,  smoothing  out  the  garments  of  the  weekly 
wash  and  placing  them,  neatly  folded,  on  the  rack. 
The  fragrance  of  the  fresh,  clean  clothes,  and  the 
spicy  odor  of  the  cake  came  to  him  pleasantly  as  he 
entered  and  was  greeted  with  a  genuine  outburst  of 
welcome  from  Lu  and  Madeline  and  a  more  conserva- 
tive one  from  the  older  sister. 

Janey  was  at  first  loath  to  leave  her  unfinished 
task,  to  say  nothing  of  other  duties  which  fell  to  her 
share  on  a  very  busy  Saturday,  but  the  plea  of  her 
pupil  lost  none  of  its  effectiveness  in  being  presented 
by  the  young  man ;  and,  putting  away  board  and  iron, 
she  went  to  her  room  to  don  a  fresh  waist  and  trim 


248  A  VINEYARD  STORY 

little  jacket  and  skirt,  and  was  down  in  a  few  mo- 
ments ready  for  their  long  ride. 

"I  do  declare  to  goodness,  what  dunces  some  young 
folks  are !"  Lu  remarked  with  dry  candor  to  Madeline 
as  the  two  stood  at  the  window  watching  them  drive 
away.  "If  they'd  just  leave  things  to  me  I'd  fix  'em 
up  in  short  order.  What's  the  use  of  fooling  around 
in  this  fickle  way  like  they've  done  for  the  last  year. 
I  don't  see  any  sense  in  it  myself.  Love's  sure  blind 
—blind  as  a  bat.  But  it's  not  fair  to  Billy." 

"But  maybe  she  likes  Billy  best,"  suggested  Made- 
line. 

"Maybe,  maybe  not,"  was  Lu's  laconic  answer; 
"but  if  Robert  had  half  as  much  sense  as  Billy  he'd 
have  had  her  long  ago." 

"Then  why  doesn't  Billy  get  her?"  Madeline  asked 
innocently. 

"Why,  yes;  why  doesn't  he?"  Lu  answered  with 
noncommittal  tartness  which  mystified  the  little  sis- 
ter and  set  her  to  pondering  over  the  situation  as 
they  went  back  to  their  work  in  the  kitchen. 

Meanwhile  Robert  and  Janey  were  speeding  away 
over  the  hills  behind  the  little  bay  horse.  The  roads 
were  hard  and  well  beaten.  The  sun  continued  to 
grow  warmer  as  the  day  advanced.  The  venturesome 
robins  had  already  returned  from  the  south,  and 
from  leafless  branches  by  the  roadside  were  gayly 
caroling  their  assurance  of  springtime.  With  every 
mile  traversed  Robert  felt  greater  reluctance  to  turn 
the  conversation  into  the  channel  that,  in  his  de- 
termination to  be  unselfish  in  his  love  to  her  and 


PUSSY  WILLOWS  249 

loyalty  to  Billy,  he  had  at  the  outstart  so  bravely 
resolved  to  do. 

So  the  miles  went  by  as  they  continued  to  talk  of 
things  of  little  or  no  consequence.  In  fact,  I  doubt 
whether  it  would  ever  have  been  mentioned  at  all  if 
chance  or  the  pussy  willows  hadn't  led  up  to  it,  and, 
of  the  two,  I'm  inclined  to  think  the  pussy  willows 
are  the  most  responsible.  Anyhow,  just  as  they  were 
crossing  a  narrow  creek  in  a  pretty  valley,  Janey 
spied  a  clump  of  willows  on  the  bank,  their  Jong 
brown  switches  supporting  hundreds  of  the  tiny, 
furry,  gray  buds. 

"Oh,  Robert!"  she  exclaimed  in  delighted  sur- 
prise ;  "see  the  pussy  willows !  Just  look  there !  The 
pussies  are  already  out  in  their  little  gray  coats. 
Spring's  here.  Oh,  I  do  want  some  of  them." 

Robert  was  out  of  the  buggy  before  she  had  fin- 
ished and  was  getting  his  knife  ready  to  cut  some 
of  the  long  twigs. 

"The  most  inconsistent  of  all  things,"  he  declared, 
as  he  reached  the  first  long  branch  to  her  eager 
hands.  "These  pussies  keep  their  fur  coats  folded 
nicely  away  through  the  cold  months  and  never  put 
them  on  till  spring,  instead  of  wearing  them  in  the 
winter  as  sensible  people  should." 

"There'll  be  plenty  of  cold  days  yet  in  which  to 
wear  them,  I  imagine,"  answered  the  girl,  putting  the 
little  soft  buds  against  her  cheek. 

"Yes,  they're  apt  to  get  their  toes  frozen  before 
the  spring  days  come  to  stay,"  he  replied,  slashing 


250  A  VINEYARD  STORY 

here  and  there  among  the  branches.  "How  many  shall 
I  get?" 

"Oh,  that's  an  abundance,"  as  he  tossed  a  lot  of  the 
long  branches  into  the  buggy  at  her  feet.  "If  you 
get  any  more  we  shall  not  know  where  to  put  them." 

"We'll  take  some  to  the  sick  girl;  she'll  enjoy 
them;  and  save  some  for  the  girls,  and  Mamie  will 
never  forgive  me  if  I  don't  take  some  home  for  her," 
Robert  replied,  bringing  still  more  and  tossing  them 
in  on  top  of  the  others.  "She  was  asking  me  this 
morning  if  I  had  seen  any  yet.  Besides,"  he  added, 
soberly,  putting  his  knife  back  in  his  pocket  and 
stepping  into  the  buggy,  "this  may  be  the  last  spring 
I  shall  have  the  opportunity  to  gather  pussy  willows 
for  some  time." 

"The  last  spring?"  she  queried,  lifting  her  eyes 
in  surprise.  "Why  so?" 

"Oh,  just  a  notion  of  mine,  I  suppose,"  he  re- 
sponded, after  a  moment.  "Somehow  I've  had  a  feel- 
ing of  late  that  I  won't  be  in  this  part  of  the  country 
next  year  or  for  several  springs.  That  may  be,  how- 
ever, on  account  of  a  decision  I  have  just  made.  I 
believe  I  have  not  told  you  that  I  intend  to  yield  to 
the  request  of  our  missionary  in  charge  and  allow 
my  name  to  go  before  the  church  authorities  at  the 
spring  conference  for  an  appointment  if  they  choose 
to  make  one." 

"No,  you  had  not  told  me."  There  was  a  little 
pause  during  which  Janey  studied  one  of  the  little 
pinkish  gray  pussies  with  absorbed  interest.  "And 
you  have  some  idea  where  they  may  send  you  ?" 


PUSSY  WILLOWS  251 

"None  whatever;  in  fact,  I  do  not  know  that  they 
will  send  me  anywhere.  As  far  as  that  is  concerned, 
the  place  matters  little  to  me,"  he  added  indiffer- 
ently. "China  or  Siberia  will  do  as  well  as  any.  I 
really  do  not  have  much  choice,  but  I  am  not  averse 
to  any  appointment  now  that  I  have  made  up  my 
mind." 

"Evidently  you  are  not  considering  your  little  flock 
at  home."  She  was  looking  up  at  him  thoughtfully. 

"On  the  contrary/'  he  replied,  "they  are  con- 
stantly in  my  thoughts  and  I  would  regret  going 
even  more  than  I  do  if  I  thought  they  would  not  be 
placed  in  better  hands  than  mine.  There  are  others 
so  much  more  experienced  than  I  that  they  will  un- 
doubtedly fare  better.  However,  the  Saints  here  have 
all  grown  undeniably  dear  to  me  the  past  winter,  and 
I  shall  not  leave  without  a  feeling  of  great  loss  upon 
my  part." 

She  was  silent  and  he  went  on  after  a  short  pause : 
"Elder  Venton  wrote  me  not  long  since  that  he  thinks 
Billy  should  be  ordained  a  priest  this  spring.  He  will 
be  a  great  help  to  whoever  comes,  as  he  has  been  to 
me,  or  he  may  be  placed  in  charge  himself.  I  shall 
not  worry  if  the  work  rests  in  his  care  and  in  the 
care  of  the  wise  little  counselor  he  has  chosen  to 
assist  him,"  with  a  sidewise  glance  at  her.  "I  am 
informed  that  the  event  is  soon  to  take  place,  and 
may  I  assure  you,  Janey,"  he  finished  hurriedly, 
"that  I  wish  for  you  both  the  happiest  of  futures." 

Janey  turned  to  him  a  face  flushing  with  be- 


252  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

wildered  astonishment,  and  the  pussy  willow  twig 
she  held  dropped  upon  the  others  at  her  feet. 

'Who  gave  you  such  information  as  that?  It's 
certainly  news  to  me.  I  know  nothing  about  it." 

It  was  Robert's  turn  to  look  surprised. 

"Why,  I  was  told  several  weeks  ago  that  you  and 
Billy  were  to  be  married  this  summer,  and  I  thought 
— from  the  way  the  information  came — it  must  be 
true." 

"Did  Billy  tell  you  that?"  she  queried  pointedly. 

"No — "  he  hesitated,  "but  one  who  had  heard  it 
directly  from  him — I  thought — I  beg  your  pardon — 
it  must  all  be  a  mistake,"  he  ended  in  confusion. 

"Well,  it  surely  is  a  mistake.  There  never  has 
been  any — any  such  understanding,  and  what's 
more,"  she  added  a  little  angrily,  as  a  sudden 
suspicion  of  a  scheme  on  Billy's  part  flashed  through 
her  mind,  "there  never  will  be." 

She  would  have  retracted  the  statement  in  a  mo- 
ment if  she  could  have  done  so,  but  it  was  too  late. 

"Never  will  be!"  Robert  repeated.  "Why  Janey, 
do  you  mean  really  that  you  do  not  care  for  him? 
Please  don't  be  angry  with  me  for  asking,  but — but 
I  thought  you — " 

"I  am  certainly  angry  with  him  if  he  has  circulated 
any  report  that  we  are  to  be  married,"  Janey  re- 
plied, quickly,  scarcely  noting  whither  the  conversa- 
tion was  tending.  "I  shall  see  him  about  it  at  once." 

"Please  don't.    It  must  be  all  a  mistake.    If  it  isn't 


"  Til  venture  Billy  never  told  it  that  way  at  all/  Janey 
evaded  irrelevantly,  in  a  desperate  attempt  to  turn  the  tide 
of  the  conversation." 


254  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

true,  I  am  sure  Billy  could  never  have  said  it.  I 
heard  it  through  Mr.  Midsby,  who  said  that  Billy 
had  told  him." 

"Oh!"  The  exclamation  had  an  emphasis  that 
Robert  was  unable  to  interpret,  but  in  his  sudden 
joy  of  finding  the  report  untrue,  a  great  hope  sprang 
again  to  his  heart  and  all  the  firm  resolves  he  had 
made  at  the  outstart  were  swept  away. 

"Janey,"  he  said  quickly,  "it's  useless  for  me  to 
keep  silent  any  longer.  You  surely  must  know  of 
my  regard  for  you,  but  Billy  has  been  my  friend 
and  brother  in  a  thousand  ways.  I  knew  he  loved 
you,  and  I  thought  you  loved  him.  He  had  so  much 
with  which  to  make  you  happy,  I  so  little,  that  I 
couldn't  be  so  selfish  as  to  place  my  interest  first. 
I've  made  a  dreadful  blunder  over  this  matter  in 
some  way." 

'Til  venture  Billy  never  told  it  that  way  at  all," 
Janey  evaded  irrelevantly,  in  a  desperate  attempt  to 
turn  the  tide  of  the  conversation.  "It's  just  another 
effort  of  Mr.  Midsby's  to  stir  up  trouble  for  all  of  us." 

"I  am  aware,"  Robert  continued  persistently,  "that 
I  have  nothing  in  the  world  to  offer  you,  Janey — no 
home,  nor  even  the  prospects  of  one  very  soon,  and 
I  have  vowed  more  than  once  that  if  I  ever  became 
a  missionary  I'd  never  ask  a  girl  to  be  my  wife  and 
share  the  hardships  of  such  a  life." 

"Solemn  vows  should  not  be  broken,"  Janey  par- 
ried, mischief  lurking  under  the  long  eyelashes. 
"Why  trouble  yourself  about  them,  since  you've  de- 


PUSSY  WILLOWS  255 

cided  for  both  and  left  nothing  for  her  to  say  in  the 
matter?" 

'That's  past,"  he  answered  quickly,  "and  I'm 
bringing  the  question  now  for  her  to  decide.  Please 
will  you  tell  me?" 

Her  answer  came  after  a  little  pause,  but  so  low 
was  it  whispered  that  no  one  could  have  heard  it  but 
Robert,  unless  it  was  the  neglected  little  pussy  wil- 
lows, and  I'm  sure  they  keep  a  secret  well,  far  better 
than  Robert  could,  at  least,  whose  face  as  they  rode 
slowly  along  over  the  hills  reflected  the  joy  of  his 
heart.  To  him  the  dull  old  world  seemed  suddenly 
to  have  transformed  itself  into  paradise. 


256  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

CHAPTER  24 

A  DAY  OF  COMPENSATION 

INTERMINABLY  long  as  the  time  may  have 
seemed  to  an  anxious,  waiting  family,  the  ride 
had  seemed  short  enough  to  the  two  when  they 
came  in  sight  of  the  Carson  farmhouse  and  Robert 
turned  the  horse  in  at  the  wide  gate  which  one  of 
the  children  had  hurried  down  to  open  for  them. 

The  sick  child,  which  had  so  frightened  the  family 
that  morning  by  suddenly  going  into  convulsions, 
was  some  better  when  they  arrived,  and  under  the 
quieting  ministrations  now  fell  into  a  restful  sleep. 
The  family,  growing  calmer  as  their  fears  were 
allayed,  began  preparations  for  dinner  and  insisted 
that  their  guests  remain  until  it  was  served.  Robert 
with  a  thought  of  the  plowing  to  be  done,  and  Janey 
of  household  tasks  awaiting  her  return,  yielded  at 
last,  though  reluctantly,  to  their  persuasions. 

Scarcely  had  they  finished  partaking  of  this  boun- 
teous country  repast  which  their  grateful  hostess 
prepared,  when  Robert  was  called  again  to  the  tele- 
phone. This  time  it  was  Farmer  Grayson's  voice. 

"Hello!  Robert,  that  you?  Called  in  town  and 
your  mother  said  you  were  out  at  Carson's — How's 
the  child?— That's  good.  Glad  to  hear  it.  Say,  by 
the  way,  have  you  got  time  to  come  around  this  way 
on  your  way  home  ?  'Twon't  be  more'n  a  mile  or  two 


"Twice,  three  times,  he  read  the  telegram  in  wonder  and 
uncertainty,  then  hurried  to  get  the  Bible  out  of  his  valise." 
(See  page  268.) 


A   DAY   OF    COMPENSATION  257 

farther  for  you,  I  guess,  an*  there's  some  one  here 
would  like  to  see  you." 

"Why,  if  it's  really  necessary  I'll  go  that  way," 
Robert  replied;  "but  if  the  matter  can  wait,  I'd 
rather  come  another  time.  I  have  work  at  home 
that  I'd  like  to  get  done  this  afternoon,  for  you  know 
I've  a  lot  to  do  for  mother  before  I  leave  in  April." 

"Well,  the  folks  out  here  are  pretty  anxious,  and 
I  'low  you  won't  worry  about  leaving  things  go  at 
home  when  you  find  out  what's  up.  Jest  take  my 
word  for  it  this  once  and  come  on,  an'  if  you  ain't 
satisfied  afterward,  I'll  drive  in  town  some  of  these 
fine  mornings  and  do  a  day's  gardening  for  you." 

Robert  agreed  to  come.  Besides,  he  was  not  par- 
ticularly averse  to  lengthening  out  the  ride  home  a 
number  of  miles,  for  somehow  the  garden  work 
didn't  appear  half  so  essential  to  him  as  it  had  done 
earlier  in  the  day. 

As  they  drove  up  near  the  homestead,  Farmer 
Grayson  was  in  the  barn  lot,  and  Robert  recognized 
with  him  Mr.  Bowers  and  Mr.  Orson,  two  of  his 
school  patrons. 

"That's  right.  Knew  ye'd  come,"  said  the  good 
farmer,  coming  out  to  greet  them.  "Glad  to  see  ye, 
too,  Miss  Janey,  and  the  wimmin  folk'll  sure  be 
pleased.  Mrs.  Bowers  and  Mrs.  Orson's  here,  too." 

"It  is  this  way,"  continued  the  farmer,  putting  one 
foot  on  the  hub  of  the  wheel  and  leaning  towards 
them,;  "the  folks  come  over  this  mornin'  to  help  me 
move  some  of  the  sheds  around  the  barn  lot,  and 
we've  been  doin'  a  leetle  work,  but  a  mighty  lot  of 
VS— 17 


258  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

talkin'.  This  ain't  the  first  time,  either.  And  mother 
— she's  been  talking  to  the  wimmin  folks  all  winter 
and  givin'  'em  tracts  and  papers  on  the  gospel  mes- 
sage. To-day  noon  Mr.  Bowers  here  says  he's  ready 
for  the  water  and  so's  his  wife  and  Mrs.  Orson.  Mr. 
Orson  ain't  quite  ready  yet,  but  he  hasn't  any  mind 
to  hinder  his  wife  from  bein'  baptized,  and  she  de- 
clares she  won't  wait  for  him  another  day.  So  I 
just  phoned  to  see  if  you  couldn't  come  out  as  well 
as  not." 

"You  see,"  he  added  in  conclusion,  with  a  jovial 
chuckle,  "some  of  them  good  sermons  you  preached 
this  winter  down  here  in  the  schoolhouse  wasn't  for 
nothin'  after  all,  and  the  seed  fell  on  good  ground 
and  is  springin'  up  in  the  hearts  of  these  honest 
neighbors  of  mine." 

"Guess  I  can't  claim  the  credit  for  all  the  planting, 
though,"  said  Robert,  with  a  happy  light  in  his  eye, 
as  he  helped  Janey  out  of  the  buggy  and  shook  hands 
with  the  three  men.  "Seems  to  me  you've  done  the 
biggest  part  of  the  sowing,  Farmer  Grayson,  and  I'm 
just  here  to  share  in  the  harvest." 

"Well,  don't  matter  'bout  that  nohow.  I  count 
myself  a  fairly  good  farmer  when  it  comes  to  lands 
and  soils,  but  you  couldn't  have  made  me  believe  a 
few  years  ago  that  I'd  ever  have  a  hand  in  harvestin' 
souls." 

Robert  went  to  the  house,  and  in  a  short  time  had 
dressed  himself  in  the  suit  Farmer  Grayson  had  pro- 
vided; and  the  rest  having  made  themselves  ready, 
the  little  company  went  across  the  fields  to  the  little 


A  DAY  OF  COMPENSATION  259 

stream  that  ran  across  one  corner  of  the  farm. 
Farmer  Grayson  having  notified  some  of  the  neigh- 
bors, a  number  had  already  gathered. 

It  was  only  the  second  experience  Robert  had  had 
in  performing  the  rite  of  baptism.  During  the  win- 
ter he  had  several  times  been  permitted  to  preach  in 
the  little  schoolhouse  where  he  taught,  and  as  he 
stood  at  the  edge  of  the  water  now,  while  the  bap- 
tismal hymn  was  being  sung  his  heart  was  filled  with 
gratitude  to  God  that  he  could  have  a  part  in  his 
great  work.  But  he  was  not  prepared  for  that  which 
was  to  follow.  When  the  three  adults  had  been  im- 
mersed in  the  clear  waters  of  the  little  running 
stream,  without  a  thought  of  there  being  any  others, 
Robert  was  just  stepping  upon  the  bank  when  Cecile 
Orson,  the  prim  little,  black-eyed,  twelve-year-old 
daughter  of  the  Orsons,  stepped  forward  and  indi- 
cated her  intention  of  being  baptized.  In  wonder- 
ment he  led  her  in  and  performed  the  sacred  rite, 
and  when  one  after  the  other  the  children  of  the  two 
families,  all  of  them  his  pupils,  followed  in  quick  suc- 
cession, expressing  their  willingness  to  take  upon 
them  the  name  of  their  Master,  Robert  felt  that  his 
cup  of  joy  was  full.  What  did  the  sacrifices  of  the 
past  amount  to  now?  Had  not  God  already  repaid 
him  a  hundredfold  for  the  efforts  he  had  made  to 
set  a  worthy  example  and  to  help  bring  these  pre- 
cious souls  into  his  kingdom? 

"I  'lowed  you  wouldn't  mind  leaving  the  garden 
work  a  leetle  longer,"  declared  Farmer  Grayson, 
rubbing  his  hands  together  in  great  satisfaction  as 


260  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

they  went  back  across  the  fields.  "Much  as  I  take 
to  f  armin',  it  seems  to  me  this  is  a  heap  sight  better 
'n  gardening  or  common,  everyday  harvesting." 

The  confirmations  were  attended  to  at  the  house 
of  the  good  farmer  soon  after,  and  the  afternoon  was 
nearly  gone  when  at  last  the  little  bay  pony  started 
on  its  return  journey.  By  the  time  they  reached 
home  the  day  was  done  and  the  dusk  of  night  was 
settling  over  a  quiet  world. 

"A  day  of  compensation,"  Robert  whispered  to 
Janey  as  he  bade  her  good-night  at  the  cottage  door. 
11  Already  my  blessings  and  rewards  are  far  more 
than  I  shall  be  able  to  merit  even  in  a  lifetime  of 


"WHITHER   THOU   GOEST"  261 

CHAPTER   25 

"WHITHER  THOU  GOEST" 

A  SABBATH  peace  pervaded  the  atmosphere  of 
the  little  brown  cottage.  A  prolonged  April 
shower,  which  had  begun  before  noon  and  still 
continued,  kept  the  young  people  all  at  home.  Just 
now  each  one  was  occupying  himself  according  to  his 
own  individual  tastes.  Janey  sat  on  a  low  stool  near 
her  mother's  rocker,  reading  aloud  to  her  from  her 
favorite  author;  Lu,  at  the  other  side  of  the  room, 
was  drumming  softly  on  the  old  piano ;  Madeline  was 
at  the  center  table,  absorbed  in  arranging  her  numer- 
ous paper  dolls  into  classes  for  their  weekly  Sunday 
school  exercises;  and  Ned,  stretched  lazily  on  the 
couch,  amused  himself  by  teasing  the  cat. 

This  little  homey  scene,  which  lasted  for  half  or 
three  quarters  of  an  hour,  was  abruptly  upset  by  the 
sudden  knock  at  the  front  door  and  the  appearance 
of  a  messenger  boy. 

"Special  delivery  letter,  Miss  Warren,"  he  said  po- 
litely to  Janey,  who  had  answered  the  knock.  "Will 
you  please  sign  here?" 

"Weil,  I  vow,  Janey,"  exclaimed  Ned,  as  the  mes- 
senger boy  turned  away  and  he  got  up  to  peer  at  the 
postmark  over  her  shoulder.  "Things  are  getting  to 
a  pretty  pass  when  a  letter  every  day  in  the  week 
won't  suffice,  and  a  special  delivery  comes  on  Sun- 
day." 


262  A  VINEYARD  STORY 

"Who  sent  it?"  asked  Madeline,  dropping  the  su- 
perintendent of  her  school  on  the  floor  and  coming 
to  look  also. 

"Oh,  just  another  letter  from  Robert — not  out  of 
the  ordinary  at  all  of  late,  little  sister,  only  that  it's 
a  special  delivery,"  explained  Ned.  "He'd  better  not 
undertake  a  mission  yet,  or  it  will  take  all  his  money 
to  pay  for  stamps  and  stationery." 

Janey  moved  away  from  him  to  the  window.  For 
some  unaccountable  reason  her  hand  shook  a  trifle 
as  she  tore  open  the  envelope.  By  the  time  she  had 
glanced  rapidly  over  the  hastily  written  sheets  not 
a  vestige  of  color  remained  in  her  cheeks.  In  the 
midst  of  a  teasing  remark  Ned  caught  the  look  on 
her  face  and  suddenly  stopped. 

"Nothing — nothing  serious  happened,  has  there, 
sis?"  he  asked  in  some  alarm. 

"No — oh,  no — not  particularly,"  Janey  found  voice 
to  answer,  then  fled  to  the  refuge  of  her  own  little 
room  upstairs. 

"Something  is  the  matter,  though,"  said  Lu. 
"What  could  Robert  have  written  to  make  her  look 
like  that?" 

"You  don't  suppose  anything  serious  has  happened 
to  him,  do  you?"  Mrs.  Warren  asked,  anxiously. 

"Why,  of  course  not,"  replied  Lu;  "he  wouldn't 
have  written  the  letter  himself  if  it  had.  Perhaps 
something  has  happened  to  his  father.  He's  at  con- 
ference with  him,  and  maybe  Robert's  written  it  to 
Janey  for  her  to  tell  Mrs.  Clayton  and  Mamie." 


"WHITHER   THOU    GOEST"  263 

"Oh,  dear!"  cried  Madeline,  "I  hope  not.  Robert's 
father  is  the  dearest,  kindest  man  in  the  world." 

"If  it  had  been  anything  of  that  kind  she'd  have 
stopped  and  told  us,"  Ned  reasoned. 

"Maybe  it's  about  his  appointment,"  said  Lu, 
thoughtfully.  "Maybe  Robert  is  going  a  long  way 
off;  but  she  needn't  have  turned  so  white  about  it. 
What  else  could  she  expect?" 

"It's  a  sure  thing  something  unusual  has  hap- 
pened," Ned  declared. 

"Well,  I  do  wish  she'd  come  downstairs  again  and 
let  us  know  what  it  is,  anyhow,"  said  Lu,  impatiently, 
"and  relieve  us  from  this  suspense." 

In  her  own  room  Janey  read  the  letter  over  again, 
and  yet  again  more  slowly;  then,  going  to  the  little 
east  window,  she  knelt  down,  and  pushing  up  the 
white  sash,  rested  her  arms  and  head  upon  the  sill. 
The  cool,  moist  breeze  came  in  softly,  fanning  her 
cheek,  and  lifting  lightly  the  soft  waves  of  brown 
hair  about  her  forehead.  On  creeping  vine  outside 
the  buds  were  swelling,  and  beyond  it  the  little  plum 
tree  was  already  showing  white  blossoms.  A  faint 
sweet  fragrance  from  it  reached  her  now,  making  her 
realize  that  only  a  few  more  days  and  the  little  home 
would  be  surrounded  with  leaf  and  blossom. 

"And  is  this  the  service  required  of  us,  0  Lord?" 
she  whispered,  clasping  her  hands  together  and 
leaning  out  so  that  the  moisture  fell  on  her  face. 
"To  leave  all  and  follow  thee?  It  seemed  an  easy 
thing  to  us  when  we  read  of  your  asking  it  of  the  fish- 
ermen by  the  sea.  We  wondered  that  they  ever 


264  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

loitered  with  their  nets  or  sighed  to  return  to  their 
boats  on  the  blue  waters.  We  wondered,  too,  that 
when  thy  Son  asked  of  the  rich  young  man  to  give 
up  his  possessions  and  follow  him,  that  he  turned 
away  sorrowfully.  Lord,  our  little  earthly  treasures 
— why  should  they  become  so  dear  to  us?  We  are 
far,  oh,  so  far  yet  from  keeping  thy  first  great  com- 
mandment." 

All  at  once  the  mists  of  the  afternoon  and  the  sur- 
rounding scenes  of  the  home  life  seemed  to  fade 
away,  as  on  the  swift  wings  of  memory  Janey  sud- 
denly felt  herself  transported  to  a  very  different 
one — to  the  little  cabin  schoolhouse  on  the  Dakota 
prairie,  where  death-dealing  winter  winds  had  shut 
them  in  and  she  had  fought  and  prayed  and  worked 
for  the  lives  of  her  pupils.  Could  it  be  that  it  was 
but  little  more  than  two  years  ago,  and — what  was  it 
she  had  promised  if  He  would  help  her  to  save  them 
and  restore  her  little  sister?  She  remembered  it 
well — the  prayer  she  had  prayed  for  their  safety. 
And  the  promise,  if  that  prayer  were  granted,  she 
remembered  it,  too,  "My  life  shall  be  spent  in  thy 
service  wheresoever  and  in  whatsoever  way  thou 
Wilt." 

A  half  hour  passed  slowly  by.  Downstairs  in  the 
little  parlor  the  family  moved  restlessly  about.  The 
waiting  was  growing  unbearable,  and  a  foreboding 
shadow  had  fallen  over  them.  Would  she  never  come 
down?  The  April  rain  ceased  at  last  and  the  sun 
shone  out  brightly.  For  some  relief  from  the  tension 
Ned  finally  strolled  outside  and  stood  idly  watching 


"WHITHER   THOU   GOEST"  265 

the  little  rivulets  of  water  flow  down  the  garden 
paths.  Lu  ceased  her  nervous  thumping  on  the 
piano  and  followed  him,  and  Madeline,  for  want  of 
something  better  to  do,  went  to  the  kitchen  and 
mixed  the  cornmeal  and  chopped  grain  for  the 
chickens'  evening  feed. 

Mrs.  Warren,  sitting  alone  by  the  window,  laid 
aside  the  paper  she  had  been  trying  to  read,  and 
looked  absently  out  of  the  window  until  a  light  step 
sounded  behind  her,  and  the  sheets  of  a  letter  flut- 
tered into  her  lap.  This  was  quickly  followed  by  a 
pair  of  soft  arms  suddenly  clasping  about  her  neck 
over  the  back  of  her  chair,  and  a  rose-tinted  cheek 
pressing  itself  close  to  her  own. 

"Mother,  dear,  may  I  talk  to  you  a  little  while  ?" 

"Why,  Janey,  of  course  you  may.  I  have  been 
waiting.  What  is  it?" 

"Listen,  mother,  for  just  a  little  while,  and  then 
you  may  read  this  letter."  The  girl  sat  down  on  the 
arm  of  her  mother's  chair  and  put  one  arm  about  her 
shoulders. 

"What  I  have  to  tell  you,"  she  said,  after  a  mo- 
ment, as  she  straightened  the  lace  about  her 
mother's  throat,  "will  not  be  easy  for  you — nor 
for  any  of  us,  but — as  you  know,  I  am  Robert's 
promised  wife." 

"Yes,  little  daughter,  I  know " 

"And  a  letter  from  him  to-day  tells  me  he  has 
been  called  and  will  soon  be  ordained  to  the  office  of 
seventy." 


266  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

'Truly?    He  is  very  young." 

"Yes — and  you  know  that  to  be  a  seventy  means 
to  stand  as  a  minute  man — one  who  may  go  any- 
where— near  or  far,  even — beyond  the  seas." 

"Janey,  he  isn't  going  to  take " 

"Listen,  please,  just  a  little  longer,  mother  dear," 
she  went  on  hurriedly,  but  gently.  "Long  ago  I 
promised  my  heavenly  Father  to  serve  him — to  go 
wherever  he  asked  me  to  go,  and  to  serve  as  he 
chose.  Yesterday  those  who  make  the  appointments 
called  Robert  and  asked  him  if  he  were  willing  to 
take  a  foreign  mission — to  the  islands  of  the  sea — 
a  very  long  way  from  home — and  they  think  it  bet- 
ter for  me  to  go  with  him.  He  writes  to  know  if  I 
am  willing  to  go.  They  are  awaiting  my  answer, 
which  should  be  sent  by  wire  this  evening." 

"To  be  gone  how  long?" 

"Five  years." 

"And  your  answer — will  it  be " 

"As  I  trust  you  will  allow  me,  mother  dear.  I  am 
young  and  strong.  Robert  needs  me;  I  must  not 
hinder  him  in  his  service,  and  the  call  has  come  for 
us  to  go — " 

But  Mrs.  Warren  had  grown  suddenly  white  and 
limp,  and  Janey's  startled  cry  brought  Madeline  from 
the  kitchen  and  Lu  and  Ned  hurrying  from  the 
garden. 

A  few  moments  later,  as  the  four  worked  excitedly 
around  the  couch  where  they  had  placed  her,  her 
eyes  opened  and  she  smiled  up  at  them  wanly.  In 
answer  to  Ned's  look  of  inquiry  then,  Janey  silently 


"WHITHER   THOU    GOEST"  267 

handed  him  the  letter.  That  letter  was  like  the 
sounding  of  a  funeral  knell  in  the  little  cottage  where 
they  had  all  dwelt  so  long  and  so  happily  together, 
bringing  as  it  did  the  thought  of  a  separation  from 
that  sister  upon  whose  strength  and  courage  the 
family  had  so  often  relied.  Janey  sat  with  a  very 
white  face  by  the  low  couch,  softly  stroking  her 
mother's  hair,  her  other  arm  enfolding  the  sobbing 
Madeline,  who  refused  to  be  comforted.  Lu,  silent, 
dry-eyed,  tearless,  moved  in  and  out,  bringing  water 
and  bathing  her  mother's  hands  and  face,  or  pre- 
paring something  for  her  to  drink,  while  Ned  stood 
helplessly,  looking  on. 

So  the  remaining  hours  of  the  Sabbath  Day  went 
by  in  the  cottage.  Meanwhile,  in  a  little  city  many 
miles  distant,  a  young  man  restlessly  paced  the 
streets  alone,  and  waited  for  his  answer.  At  a  late 
hour  it  had  not  come,  and  he  went  to  his  room  and 
to  bed.  There  followed  an  almost  sleepless  night, 
and  with  the  first  break  of  day  he  was  up  and  out 
for  a  long  walk  into  the  country. 

It  was  nearly  noon  when  at  last  the  messenger 
boy  appeared  with  the  familiar  yellow  envelope. 
Robert  took  it  with  fingers  not  quite  steady.  By  the 
grate,  in  the  guest  chamber  where  he  and  his  father 
roomed  together,  he  tore  it  open  hastily.  The  mes- 
sage was  not  contained  in  a  single  word,  as  he  had 
anticipated.  Instead,  with  surprise,  he  read  the  fol- 
lowing: "Ruth  1: 16— latter  portion." 

In  his  analysis  of  Bible  principles  and  doctrines, 
Robert's  research  and  study  had  not  familiarized  him 


2€S  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

with  this  particular  book,  and  in  his  present  dis- 
turbed state  of  mind  he  could  not  recall  a  single 
statement  nor  a  connected  thought  as  to  what"  it 
contained.  Twice,  three  times  he  read  the  telegram 
in  wonder  and  uncertainty,  then  hurried  to  get  the 
Bible  out  of  his  valise.  Opening  it  with  undue  haste 
he  at  last  found  the  place  and  read  there  this  answer 
in  the  words  of  the  loyal  Moabite  maiden  to  Naomi : 
"Whither  thou  goest,  I  will  go;  and  where  thou 
lodgest,  I  will  lodge ;  thy  people  shall  be  my  people, 
and  thy  God  my  God." 


AN  UNLUCKY  HORSESHOE  269 

•- 
CHAPTER   26 

AN  UNLUCKY  HORSESHOE 

E  WARREN  dropped  down  on  the  back  doorstep 
in  the  welcome  shade  of  the  big  box  elder  and 
fanned  her  flushed,  perspiring  face  with  the  old 
sun  hat  in  such  a  manner  as  to  threaten  its  further 
usefulness  as  a  head  covering.    As  she  did  so  the 
packages  she  had  been  carrying  slipped  from  her 
tired  arms  to  the  step  below,  or  rolled  to  the  ground 
at  her  feet. 

"Dear  me,  Lu,"  exclaimed  Madeline,  coming  around 
the  corner  of  the  kitchen  at  that  moment  from 
the  chicken  yard,  whither  she  had  just  been  to 
water  the  thirsty  fowls,  "couldn't  you  find  a  more 
convenient  place  to  put  yourself  than  right  in  the 
doorway  ?  How  do  you  expect  a  body  to  get  in  and 
out  of  the  kitchen?" 

"Just  step  over  things,"  replied  her  sister,  moving 
slightly.  "It's  easy,  but  the  walk  down  town  in  the 
hot  sun  wasn't.  I  was  so  tired  and  warm  that  when 
I  got  under  the  shade  of  this  old  tree  and  the  cool 
breeze  struck  me  I  felt  like  I  couldn't  go  another 
step,  and  simply  flopped." 

"You  do  look  clear  fagged  out,"  said  the  little  sis- 
ter, all  sympathy  in  a  moment  and  pausing  to  set 
down  the  empty  pail.  "Ned  was  going  down  town 
this  afternoon,  and  you  should  have  left  the  errands 
for  him  to  do." 


270  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

"No,  the  station  agent  telephoned  this  morning 
that  an  express  package  was  there.  Mother  has  been 
wanting  for  two  days  the  lining  and  buttons  for 
Janey's  suit,  which  I  knew  were  in  that  package, 
and  she's  been  worrying  because  they  weren't  here, 
so  I  ran  down  to  the  station  right  away,  to  get  them." 

"Too  bad  to  have  such  a  walk  in  this  hot  sun," 
said  Madeline,  sitting  down  on  the  step  beside  her 
and  affectionately  patting  her  shoulder.  "But  you 
look  like  you'd  hurried  so.  What  made  you  do  that  ? 
Mother  wasn't  in  such  a  rush,  was  she  ?" 

"Yes,  I  forgot.  I  did  run  all  the  way  back.  It's 
so  dreadful." 

"Dreadful,  I  should  say;  why,  it's  enough  to  give 
you  a  sunstroke." 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Lu,  "I  didn't  mean  the  running. 
I'm  always  doing  such  absurd  things.  Why  couldn't 
I  be  nice  and  proper  like  Janey  always  is,  I  wonder." 

"Why,  what's  the  matter  now?"  Madeline  queried 
anxiously.  "You  always  do  things  right,  Lu." 

"Yes,  I  surely  do  them  right — especially  when  it 
comes  to  making  blunders,  I  can  do  them  up  in  fine 
style.  I'm  a  master  hand  at  that  I  tell  you.  Where's 
Janey?" 

"Down  in  the  garden,  getting  the  vegetables  for 
dinner." 

"Humph!  she'd  better  have  gone  to  the  station  in 
my  place — no,  I'm  glad  she  didn't.  I  saw  Billy  there." 

"Billy?"  queried  Madeline,  "and  what  about  him?" 


AN  UNLUCKY   HORSESHOE  271 

"Matter  enough,"  replied  Lu  in  tragic  tones. 
"Billy's  heart  is  completely  broken!" 

"Broken!"  exclaimed  the  little  sister,  solemnly. 
"Why,  Lu,  what's  happened?" 

"It's  what's  going  to  happen  that's  done  it,"  Lu 
answered  almost  curtly.  "It's  just  naturally  going 
to  kill  him  for  Janey  to  get  married — and  her  wed- 
ding day  less  than  a  week  off  now,  too.  I  didn't  know 
he  was  going  to  leave  town  till  I  got  down  to  the 
depot,  and  there  stood  the  ten-thirty  train,  and  who 
should  be  standing  on  the  steps  of  the  last  coach  but 
Billy  Gibson,  suit  case  and  all.  Oh,  I  tell  you  he 
looked  desperate." 

"You  can't  mean  it,"  said  Madeline,  searching  her 
sister's  face  with  troubled  eyes. 

"But  I  do  mean  it,"  Lu  answered  still  more  trag- 
ically. "I  know  it.  Why,  Madeline,  you  know  your- 
self that  no  one  could  love  our  Janey  and  not  be 
broken-hearted  if  somebody  else  got  her.  Just  think 
how  we  feel  about  her  going  away,  and  then  think 
what  it  must  be  for  Billy.  I  tell  you  it's  true." 

Madeline's  blue  eyes  directed  their  gaze  to  the 
twittering  wrens  in  the  box  by  the  cherry  tree,  then 
afar  off  to  the  green-robed  hills  in  the  distance,  and 
back  again  to  her  sister's  distressed  countenance, 
while  she  sought  for  a  comforting  word  with  which 
to  soothe  her  perturbed  spirit.  "I  guess  if  it's 
broken  somebody'll  have  to  mend  it,"  she  said  at 
last,  stroking  her  sister's  sleeve.  "If  we  had  the 
pieces  here  we'd  mend  'em  together  like  we  do  the 


272  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

dishes,  wouldn't  we  ?"  she  added,  with  pretty  serious- 
ness. "You're  a  splendid  hand  at  that." 

"Humph!  an  easy  task  if  it  were  a  dish.  You 
can't  mend  hearts  with  glue,"  Lu  retorted  with  a 
short  laugh.  "How  silly  you  are,  Madeline." 

"No,  I'm  not  silly,"  replied  Madeline;  "you  always 
could  do  anything,  Lu." 

"Nonsense." 

"What's  all  this  about?"  asked  Ned,  opening  the 
screen  door  behind  them  and  pushing  himself  out. 
"Broken  hearts  and  dishes  came  floating  in  to  my 
ears." 

"Oh,  Lu  says  Billy's  heart  is  broken,  and  she's 
worrying  about  it,"  Madeline  informed  him  briefly, 
as  she  moved  over  to  the  end  of  the  step  so  he  could 
get  past  them. 

"Lu  always  takes  the  part  of  the  under  dog," 
laughed  Ned.  "Don't  take  it  so  seriously,  sis.  On 
my  word,  he'll  get  over  it  soon  enough.  Just  see  to 
it  that  you  don't  break  hearts  yourself  some  of  these 
days  when  you  get  a  little  older." 

"I've  done  worse  this  very  day,"  sighed  Lu,  de- 
spairingly, "I've  broken  a  car  window." 

"A  car  window!"  from  both  Ned  and  Madeline  as 
they  stared  at  her. 

Lu  nodded  miserably.  "Just  my  usual  luck,"  she 
vouchsafed  presently.  "Of  course  I  always  do  the 
ridiculous  thing,  but  Billy  did  look  so  desperate  I  had 
to  do  something  and  do  it  quick,  for  the  train  was 
beginning  to  move.  I've  always  heard  a  horseshoe 
was  a  sign  of  good  luck,  and  just  as  the  train  started 


AN  UNLUCKY  HORSESHOE  273 

I  saw  one  lying  near  me  on  the  platform,  and  I  picked 
it  up  and  threw  it  at  him.  And  what  do  you  sup- 
pose the  crazy  thing  did  ?  Instead  of  landing  on  the 
platform  beside  him  it  went  smack  through  the  car 
window  ten  feet  away  and  nearly  scared  an  old  lady 
to  death  who  was  sitting  in  the  next  seat." 

"Why,  Lu  Warren,  what  will  you  be  doing  next?" 

"I  don't  know,"  sighed  the  girl,  mournfully,  wip- 
ing her  hot  face  with  a  small  wet  handkerchief. 

"And  Billy,  what  did  he  do?"  asked  Ned,  the  cor- 
ners of  his  mouth  twitching. 

"Billy — oh,"  exclaimed  Lu,  "I  guess  I  must  have 
looked  dreadfully  funny  and  scared,  for  he  looked 
first  at  me,  then  at  the  shattered  glass,  and  then  he 
called  out :  'Lu,  who  were  you  trying  to  kill  ?'  I  man- 
aged to  gasp  out  that  I  was  throwing  a  horseshoe 
after  him  for  good  luck,  and  you  should  have  seen 
him  and  that  conductor  laugh.  I  couldn't  see  any- 
thing funny  about  it.  Then  Billy  dashed  inside  the 
car,  and  in  a  minute  he  stuck  his  head  out  through 
that  broken  window  and  shouted,  It's  all  right,  Lu. 
I've  found  it,  and  I'll  take  it  and  the  luck  that  comes 
with  it.  Never  mind  about  the  window.'  And  the 
last  I  saw  of  him  he  was  waving  the  horseshoe  out 
the  window  and  laughing  like  a  crazy  fellow.  Now 
could  anything  be  more  absurd?  A  nice  little  bill 
for  a  man  in  trouble  to  pay.  He'll  think  it's  anything 
but  good  luck."  And  Lu  began  fanning  again  with 
renewed  activity. 

Ned  was  by  this  time  rolling  on  the  grass,  holding 
his  sides,  and  the  little  sister  in  her  most  matronly 
VS— 18 


274  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

way  was  vainly  trying  to  repress  unsympathetic 
smiles. 

"Lu,  you  never  do  anything  by  halves,"  the  brother 
managed  to  articulate  at  last. 

"No,  I  broke  the  whole  window." 

"Lucky  enough  for  Billy  you  didn't  make  a 
straight  throw." 

"Never  mind;  maybe  the  jollying  up  was  worth 
the  price  of  the  window  to  him,"  said  Madeline,  con- 
solingly, while  she  frowned  at  Ned's  laughter.  "Any- 
how, I  guess  his  heart  isn't  quite  broken  or  he 
wouldn't  laugh  like  that.  But,  Lu,  you're  ruining 
your  hat.  See,  you're  tearing  the  brim,"  she  chided. 

"Why,  so  I  am,"  said  Lu,  looking  at  it  ruefully. 
"And  it's  well  for  you  to  be  having  a  watchful  eye 
for  your  future  property,  Madeline.  Since  Janey  has 
worn  it  only  two  seasons,  and  myself  as  many,  it 
should  descend  to  you  in  a  more  respectable  con- 
dition." 

"Thanks.  I'll  never  wear  that  hat,  so  you  may 
finish  it,"  declared  Madeline  stoutly.  "It's  older  and 
more  dilapidated  than  the  last  heirloom  I  wore." 

"The  more  antique,  the  more  valuable  some  things 
are  accounted  in  this  world ;  why  not  so  with  hats  ?" 
mused  Lu,  holding  the  rejected  article  out  in  front 
of  her  and  regarding  it  critically.  "Now,  if  this 
were  a  piece  of  furniture,  no  telling  how  much  it 
would  be  worth  in  a  few  more  years." 

"Janey  says  I  am  to  have  an  entirely  new  hat  for 
the  wedding." 


AN   UNLUCKY  HORSESHOE  275 

"Which  is  very  extravagant,  considering  the  fact 
that  she  is  so  soon  to  be  a  minister's  wife,"  replied 
Lu  with  mock  severity. 

"There  she  comes  now  from  the  garden  with  the 
vegetables,"  said  Madeline. 

"And  I  hear  mother  calling  me,"  said  Lu,  rising 
quickly.  "Will  you  start  the  kitchen  fire,  Madeline? 
And  please,  Ned,  don't  tell  Janey  about  the  broken 
window  and  Billy.  She'd  feel  terrible.  Hereafter 
I  shall  steadfastly  affirm  that  a  horseshoe  is  un- 
lucky." $  f 

p ' 


276  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

CHAPTER   27 

THE    STRAIGHT    FURROW 

THE  following  day  the  powerful  giant  engine  of 
the  Oriental  Limited,  drawing  behind  it  a  long 
line  of  passenger  coaches,  was  steaming  its 
way  past  green  wheat  fields,  many  hundred  acres  in 
extent,  and  over  wide  stretches  of  Dakota  prairie. 
Above  the  green  earth  a  sunny  sky  stretched  its 
blue  canopy,  and  soft  south  winds  set  the  young, 
tender  grain  and  prairie  grasses  into  motion,  like  the 
rippling  of  many  waters. 

On  the  platform  of  the  observation  car  a  young 
man  leaned  carelessly  against  the  brass  railing  and 
moodily  looked  out  upon  the  June  landscape.  His 
handsome  features  wore  a  looked  of  dogged  indiffer- 
ence as  he  noted  the  prosperous  fields  of  growing 
grain,  which  gave  promise  of  their  thousands  to 
fortunate  farmers  and  already  wealthy  land  owners. 
He  sensed  but  slightly  the  charm  of  a  scene  which  at 
one  time  had  held  him  enthralled.  Scarce  two  years 
had  passed  since  he  had  so  suddenly  made  his  de- 
cision to  leave  the  free  life  of  this  broad  and  open 
country  for  college  work,  and  then  to  follow  it  with 
a  creditable  position  in  the  growing  little  town  in  its 
picturesque  setting  of  hills  and  trees  and  blossoms. 
A  year  ago  it  had  seemed  etherealized  to  him;  now 
he  almost  hated  it,  since  it  marked  for  him  his  first 


THE   STRAIGHT   FURROW  277 

defeat.  Yes,  strange  but  true,  William  Maxwell  Gib- 
son, who  in  his  young  life  had  already  twice  faced 
the  hard  tasks  of  pioneer  life  with  a  light  heart  and 
a  boyish  whistle  ever  on  his  lips,  who  had  conquered 
the  forests  and  the  prairies,  was  at  last  compelled 
to  learn  one  of  life's  most  valuable  lessons — the  les- 
son which  comes  with  defeat. 

When  but  a  very  small  boy  his  father  and  mother 
had  moved  into  the  great  forests  of  one  of  the  Cen- 
tral States,  and  almost  with  baby  hands  he  had 
learned  to  cut  the  saplings  and  trim  them  for  fire 
wood.  Later,  as  his  muscles  grew  larger  and  stronger 
and  his  strength  increased,  the  mighty  monarchs  of 
the  forest  fell  before  the  ringing  strokes  of  his  ax 
with  a  skill  that  many  an  older  wood  cutter  might 
have  envied.  He  had  hunted  and  trapped  through 
these  wildernesses,  and  more  than  once  had  matched 
his  strength  with  the  wild  creatures  in  a  perilous  en- 
counter. 

All  this  in  the  boyhood  home  of  his  first  remem- 
brance. Then  came  pioneer  life  again  in  a  vastly  dif- 
ferent country,  when  as  a  youth  with  undaunted 
spirit  and  a  heart  for  the  labor,  he  set  for  himself 
the  task  of  helping  to  conquer  the  great  prairie  lands 
of  the  North,  to  cause  the  cod  to  yield  its  stored-up 
energies  for  the  production  of  useful  grains,  and  to 
turn  the  desert  places  into  cultivated  fields.  And  as 
his  father  had  conquered  them  and  instructed  him 
how,  so  he  conquered,  even  through  summer's 
drought  and  heat  and  pestilence,  and  through  rigor- 
ous winter's  cold  and  peril.  There  were  times,  of 


278  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

course,  when  for  a  season  adversity  frowned  upon 
them,  but  they  had  been  temporary,  and  in  the  main 
prosperity  had  been  their  lot. 

People  had  always  said  of  young  Gibson  that 
"Things  came  his  way."  In  other  words,  whatever 
he  undertook  prospered.  The  meanest,  feeblest 
lamb,  found  shivering  or  half  starving  in  the  cold 
hills,  responded  to  his  ministrations  and  became  in 
due  time  the  beauty  of  the  flock.  The  scrawniest 
pig  in  the  pen,  when  intrusted  to  his  care,  became 
the  fattest  and  finest  porker.  The  soil  that  he  culti- 
vated yielded  its  richest  increase,  while  the  most 
fractious  horse  of  the  plains,  under  his  masterful 
touch,  was  soon  gentle  and  tractable.  For  miles 
around  his  services  had  been  sought  by  ranchmen  for 
the  training  of  difficult  and  high-spirited  steeds. 
Thus  it  had  ever  been  with  him  at  the  big  home- 
stead which  he  and  his  father  had  added  to  from 
time  to  time  until  it  numbered  many  hundreds  of 
acres,  and  where  in  the  simplicity  of  homestead  life 
he  had  lived  with  the  freedom  of  a  young  king. 

It  might  be  whispered,  too,  though  perhaps  it 
would  not  be  well  to  tell  it  everywhere,  that  in  his 
home  Billy's  cheery  smile  and  whistle  and  his  con-- 
tagious  good  humor  had  always  won  for  him  his  own 
way  with  an  admiring  mother,  a  doting  sister,  and 
the  worshipful  younger  members  of  the  family,  to 
say  nothing  of  an  easy,  indulgent  father. 

It  was  from  this  life,  with  the  advent  of  a  new 
ambition  and  hope,  that  he  had  so  suddenly  broken 
himself  two  years  before  and  started  out  upon  a  new 


THE   STRAIGHT   FURROW  279 

quest.  Knowing  his  own  limitations  in  some  re- 
spects, it  had  led  him  first  to  the  college,  and  there, 
as  in  other  things,  he  had  kept  up  the  same  pace, 
equaling  and  more  often  excelling  his  classmates. 
The  triumphs  he  had  won  in  his  studies  and  ath- 
letics he  had  accepted  with  a  careless  ease  and  grace 
which  had  made  him  a  favorite  of  men  and  admired 
of  women. 

And  so  he  had  continued  to  pursue  his  quest.  Hav- 
ing never  experienced  defeat,  why  should  he  expect 
it  now,  when  the  object  was  the  heart  of  a  maiden, 
and  she  to  him  the  gentlest  of  all  maidens  ?  He  had 
scarcely  questioned  but  that  he  would  finally  succeed. 
The  probabilities  were  in  his  favor,  and  he  had 
matched  his  strength  against  his  rival's,  comfortably 
assuring  himself  that  in  the  end  he  would  win 
against  any  odds. 

Yet  he  had  failed  in  this  most  momentous  experi- 
ence of  his  life.  For  the  first  time  he  was  looking 
defeat  in  the  face ;  or  rather,  he  was  turning  his  back 
and  endeavoring  to  flee  from  it.  It  was  a  new  sen- 
sation, and  the  young  man  was  taking  it  with  ill 
grace.  The  announcement  of  Robert  and  Janey's 
wedding,  to  take  place  a  few  days  hence,  he  had  not 
been  able  to  accept  philosophically.  His  friends  and 
the  world  in  general  were  treating  him  badly.  The 
occasional  jest  of  his  associates  irritated  him  beyond 
measure  or  patience.  Then,  from  across  the  wide 
distance  came  the  long  call  of  the  old,  free  life,  to 
forest  shade  or  open  prairie,  and,  arranging  quickly 
for  a  vacation,  he  was  off  without  a  word  of  fare- 


280  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

well  to  anyone.  A  day  and  a  night's  travel  had  car- 
ried him  again  into  these  familiar  scenes,  yet  with 
each  succeeding  mile  traveled  he  was  growing 
more  restive.  Accusing  the  world,  and  his  friends 
especially,  of  unkindness  and  disloyalty,  and  fate 
of  grievously  mistreating  him,  for  a  long  time 
now  he  had  leaned  almost  motionless  against  the 
railing,  absorbed  in  his  moody  thoughts.  The  pert 
little  prairie  dogs,  dodging  up  a  moment  to  bark  at 
the  flying  train  and  back  again  quickly  to  their  places 
of  refuge,  half  amused,  half  annoyed  him;  but  he 
watched  with  something  of  the  old  satisfaction  the 
low-flying  redwing  as  it  made  its  way  across  the 
coulee. 

A  call  from  the  diner  aroused  him  finally,  and  he 
followed  the  porter  into  the  car  and  in  spite  of  his 
troubles  succeeded  in  disposing  of  a  considerable 
portion  of  an  appetizing  lunch;  then  he  repaired  to 
his  seat  in  the  Pullman  and  opened  his  valise  to  look 
for  a  book.  As  he  did  so  a  singular  object  to  be 
carried  in  a  young  man's  suit  case  fell  out.  An  old 
rusty  horseshoe  with  a  broken  nail  in  one  side  and 
here  and  there  places  where  the  rust  had  been  rubbed 
off,  an  evidence  that  it  had  been  used  frequently  by 
the  loafers  about  the  depot  in  playing  quoits.  A 
broad  smile  broke  over  the  young  man's  features  as 
he  picked  it  up. 

"Good  luck,"  he  mused.  "Here's  hoping  you'll 
bring  it,  though  you  did  cost  me  the  price  of  a  win- 
dow." Then  he  broke  into  an  audible  laugh  at  the 
remembrance  of  Lu's  startled  and  dismayed  face. 


THE  STRAIGHT  FURROW  281 

"Lu's  a  brick,"  he  murmured.  "There  isn't  one 
in  a  thousand  like  her."  After  which  he  carefully 
placed  the  horseshoe  back  in  a  corner  of  the  suit  case, 
comfortably  disposed  himself  in  the  seat  with  his 
book,  and  for  some  reason,  whether  the  dinner,  the 
book,  the  horseshoe,  or  all  three,  his  face  wore  a 
more  cheerful  expression  for  the  remainder  of  the 
afternoon. 

A  few  more  hours'  ride  brought  him  to  his  destina- 
tion. Nelse  and  Sally  and  the  trim  Overland  awaited 
him  at  the  station,  and  they  were  not  long  in  reach- 
ing the  homestead.  Billy  noted  with  a  touch  of  re- 
gret the  age  lines  on  his  mother's  face  and  that  his 
father  was  beginning  to  look  worn,  but  little  Pansy 
was  emerging  from  spoiled  babyhood  to  a  bright- 
eyed  lass.  The  two  years  had  also  made  changes  in 
the  farm,  and  the  young  man  was  by  no  means 
averse  to  a  new,  comfortable  farmhouse,  supplied 
with  modern  conveniences,  which  had  taken  the  place 
of  the  old  cabin  home. 

In  the  center  of  this  doting  home  circle,  admired 
and  petted  and  unduly  indulged  in  his  whims  and 
fancies,  Billy  recovered  for  a  few  days  his  ac- 
customed good  spirits,  then  suddenly  lapsed  back 
again  into  discontent  and  moodiness. 

"Reckon  the  old  place  don't  seem  jest  as  home- 
like and  natural  as  it  used  to  'fore  you  went  to 
workin'  in  the  bank  and  runnin'  round  back  thar  in 
them  well-settled  States,"  remarked  Mr.  Gibson  one 
afternoon,  about  a  week  after  his  son's  arrival.  The 
two  were  making  a  tour  of  inspection  as  to  needed 


282  A- VINEYARD    STORY 

repairs  on  barns  and  granaries,  and  a  rather  dis- 
gruntled expression  from  the  younger  man's  lips 
gave  rise  to  the  above  speech. 

"Oh,  it's  all  well  enough,  I  guess,  to  anybody  that 
likes  it,"  replied  Billy,  not  with  the  best  of  humor. 
"Fact  is,  I'm  tired  of  it  back  there,  and  this  seems 
altogether  too  quiet.  I've  a  notion  the  West's  the 
place  for  me.  Let's  sell  out  and  go  to  California." 

The  old  man  gave  a  surprised  grunt.  "Well,  son, 
ye  air  out  of  sorts  with  the  world,  ain't  ye  ?"  he  said. 
"Reckon  ye  don't  need  to  try  to  pull  us  all  out  of  our 
stalls  jest  cause  ye  air  a  leetle  restless  yerself." 

"Might  as  well  be  out  of  the  world  as  in  it  so  far 
as  living  there  or  out  here's  concerned,"  replied  Billy, 
with  marked  discontent  in  his  tones.  "There's 
splendid  opportunities  in  the  West.  I  want  to  go 
where  there's  something  doing." 

Mr.  Gibson  gave  one  quick,  shrewd  glance  at  his 
son  from  the  corner  of  his  eye,  squinted  the  other 
up  at  the  weather  vane  on  the  top  of  the  big  barn, 
was  silent  for  a  few  moments,  then  spoke  tersely : 

"It  ain't  no  fault  of  places,  Billy,  that's  ailin'  of  ye, 
and  I  reckon  it  won't  do  to  begin  kickin'  and  balkin' 
now.  Ye've  always  had  things  purty  much  your 
own  way,  I  'low,  with  ma  and  me,  but  ye've  got  to 
learn  it  don't  always  happen  that  way  in  this  world, 
an'  if  ye  run  up  agin  some  things,  it's  better  to  buckle 
to  and  face  'em.  Ye  can't  git  around  by  runnin*  off 
to  a  new  country.  If  things  don't  go  always  to  suit 
you,  set  yourself  for  a  straight  f urrer  and  plow 


THE   STRAIGHT   FURROW  283 

ahead.  Ye'll  pull  through  straight  enough  by  and 
by." 

"It's  easy  enough  to  talk;  it's  another  thing  to 
understand  what  one's  talking  about/'  said  Billy,  im- 
patiently. "A  man  doesn't  always  know  what  the 
other  fellow's  up  against." 

"Huhhuh!  Mebbe  so,"  admitted  the  old  man, 
stroking  his  stubby  beard  in  the  manner  character- 
istic of  him  when  engaged  in  an  argument.  "Yes,  I 
'low  mebbe  that's  true.  It  ain't  always  an  easy  thing 
to  understand  human  natur'  nohow,  but  I  'low  what- 
ever's  at  the  bottom  of  any  feller's  foolishness  thar's 
not  a  great  sight  o'  difference.  It's  mebbe  a  good 
crop  o'  wheat  burned  up  by  the  drought,  or  it  might 
be  some  feller's  got  a  balky  span  o'  mules  off  on  ye 
in  a  trade,  or  it  might  be  a  bank  account  gone  dry, 
and  it  might  be — "  the  old  man  paused  a  moment 
and  leaned  his  arms  in  a  resting  position  on  the  high 
board  fence  and  seemed  watching  with  absorbed  at- 
tention the  playful  maneuvers  of  several  young 
calves  in  the  barn  lot;  "it  might  be  that  some  gal 
didn't  see  things  the  same  way  a  feller  would  like  to 
hev  her  do." 

Billy  flushed,  but  the  old  man's  eyes  seemed  ob- 
livious to  anything  but  the  calves,  and  he  went  medi- 
tatively on: 

"Now  I  size  things  up  about  like  this :  If  it's  the 
crop  that's  gone  under,  thar's  still  another  year 
comin'  an'  it'll  rain  sometime ;  if  it's  the  balky  mules, 
the  most  of  'em  ye  kin  break  of  the  habit,  and  if  ye 
can't  ye  can  jist  console  yerself  with  the  thought 


284  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

that  it's  better  fer  ye  if  yer  to  be  cheated  in  a  bar- 
gain than  to  cheat;  if  it's  the  bank  account,  thar's 
none  of  us  can  make  use  of  it  after  we  die  anyhow, 
an' — if  it's  the  gal,  wall,  I  allus  'lowed  that  a  feller 
didn't  need  to  go  to  the  dogs  jest  'cause  one  of  'em 
don't  like  his  plans." 

A  short  pause  ensued  in  which  Billy  silently 
whittled  the  top  board  of  the  fence  and  ran  the  edge 
of  his  pocketknife  dangerously  near  a  nail. 

"I've  heard  folks  say  in  my  time,"  Mr.  Gibson 
continued,  evenly,  "that  a  man  couldn't  make  much 
of  himself  without  the  influence  of  a  good  woman, 
an'  I  reckon  that's  all  true  enough;  a  woman's  in- 
fluence counts  more  than  he's  willin'  to  give  her 
credit  for,  sometimes ;  but  I  swan  if  I  don't  think  that 
feller's  a  blamed  coward  that  after  she's  got  him 
started  in  the  straight  f urrer  an'  his  face  set  in  the 
right  direction,  he'll  then  let  loose  of  the  plow 
handles  again  jest  'cause  she  won't  go  all  the  way 
down  to  the  end  of  the  field  with  him  and  help  him 
to  keep  hangin'  on.  The  feller  that  ain't  got  any 
more  backbone  than  that  don't  deserve  her  help  in 
the  first  place." 

Billy's  knife  slipped  through  the  hard  wood  at  that 
instant,  against  the  nail,  and  an  ugly  nick  was 
chipped  out  of  the  fine  steel  blade. 

"Such  advice  may  sound  good  to  the  giver,"  he 
said  a  little  hardly,  "but  it  isn't  so  easy  when  you 
have  some  experiences.  To  have  the  experience  one's 
self  and  to  tell  the  other  fellow  what  he  ought  to  do 
are  two  different  things." 


THE   STRAIGHT   FURROW  285 

"Jest  so,  jest  so,"  acquiesced  the  old  man,  "an*  I 
don't  know  but  in  your  case,  seein'  as  how  things  is, 
that  it  ain't  a  leetle  harder  than  most  cases  I've 
known.  Leastways  it  looks  that  way  to  you  now.  An' 
of  course  I,  bein'  an'  old  man  of  a  good  many  years, 
might  not  be  able  to  determine  jest  the  feelin's  of  a 
young  feller  of  twenty-three.  Now  I  'mind  me  of  a 
time  when  I  wan't  so  old  as  I  am  now,  an'  thought 
purty  much  in  the  same  line  as  you've  been  talkin' 
this  afternoon.  I  mind  thar  came  into  our  country 
about  that  time  one  of  the  purtiest,  nicest  leetle 
gals  I'd  ever  laid  eyes  on.  I  'low  thar  never  was  a 
gal  smarter  nor  winsomer,  an'  when  she  married  a 
young  feller  by  the  name  of  Warren  and  then  went 
to  live  in  another  State,  thar  was  several  of  us  young 
fellers  purty  badly  cut  up  about  it." 

Billy's  astonished  look  went  quickly  to  his  father's 
grizzled  countenance,  under  which  no  one,  least  of 
all  the  son,  would  have  expected  a  touch  of  romance 
or  sentiment.  It  was  gravely  impassive  now  and  the 
son  respectfully  returned  his  gaze  again  to  the  board 
he  was  whittling. 

"And  that  brings  to  mind  the  little  school-ma'am, 
who  came  out  here  to  our  deestrict  a  couple  o'  years 
ago.  It  turned  out  she  was  their  daughter.  Nice 
leetle  thing  she  was,  too,  with  her  mother's  eyes  an' 
hair,  though  she  wa'n't  quite  so  good  looking  in  the 
main." 

The  pocketknife  Billy  held  fell  from  his  hand  and 
clattered  down  against  the  boards  of  the  fence.  Im- 
pulsively he  took  a  step  nearer  his  father. 


286  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

"That's  a  mighty  good  steer  out  thar,  Billy,"  the 
old  man  remarked  casually,  as  a  fine-looking  Here- 
ford nosed  its  way  along  the  fence  and  pulled  at  the 
grass.  "I  'low  he'll  tip  the  scales  to  the  fifteen  hun- 
dred notch  right  now.  Nelse  and  mother  hev  set  him 
aside  from  the  herd  as  an  offering,  an'  every  cent  he 
brings,  they  say,  is  a-goin'  to  the  church  this  fall.  I 
tried  to  argue  with  'em  that  he  was  the  best  of  the 
bunch,  but  our  Nelse  says  as  pert  as  you  please, 
The  best  and  firstlings  of  the  flock  belong  to  the 
Lord.  That's  the  way  it  was  in  olden  times.'  Nelse 
is  a-gettin'  to  be  a  mighty  fine  lad,  Billy ;  a  mighty 
fine  lad." 

"That  he  is,  dad,"  Billy  affirmed  with  a  heartiness 
that  brought  a  new  ring  to  his  voice. 

"Yes,  yes;  a  mighty  fine  lad,"  the  old  man  re- 
peated. "He'll  be  nigh  your  equal  some  day,  Billy, 
if  not  quite  so." 

"Will  excel  me,  I  hope,"  said  Billy,  extending  his 
hand ;  "but,  dad,  I'll  hang  on  to  the  plow  handles,  and 
I  trust  you  won't  ever  again  have  occasion  to  fear 
for  my  backbone.  I'll  never  be  as  good  as  my  old 
dad,  but  I'll  try  to  plow  the  furrow  so  straight  he 
won't  be  ashamed  of  it  or  of  me." 

They  shook  hands  gravely,  the  father  and  son, 
with  a  fuller  understanding,  with  a  greater  realiza- 
tion of  each  other's  worth  and  character,  and  a  new 
confidence  and  respect  which  was  never  to  be  broken. 


WILD  ROSES  AND  FORGET-ME-NOTS          287 


CHAPTER   28 
WILD  ROSES  AND  FORGET-ME-NOTS 

SUNNY  skies,  soft  winds,  the  freshness  of  leaf, 
and  the  fragrance  of  blossom  betrayed  unmis- 
takably the  presence  of  June  time.  Around  the 
brown  cottage  an  air  of  sweet  mystery  and  subdued 
excitement  had  hovered  for  many  days.  Nature 
herself  seemed  to  sense  that  an  event  of  great  im- 
portance was  about  to  take  place,  and  for  several 
weeks  had  been  busy  weaving  her  richest  robes,  and 
lavishly  bedecking  them  with  bud  and  blossom.  Never 
before  had  the  foliage  in  native  and  orchard  trees 
hung  in  such  heavy  luxuriance.  Never  had  grass 
grown  more  smoothly  on  lawn  and  emerald-bordered 
street.  Never  had  bush  and  vine  and  shrub  seemed 
to  vie  so  earnestly  with  each  other  in  contributing 
their  blossoms  to  decorate  and  make  fragrant  the 
little  old  home  as  they  did  at  this  time,  when  the 
sweet  little  bride  was  to  go  out  from  its  walls  and 
away  to  a  far  country. 

And  within  the  cottage  hearts  and  brains  and 
hands  had  been  just  as  busy  getting  ready  for  the 
occasion  and  for  her  departure.  From  the  hour 
school  was  out  till  the  very  last  day  before  the  wed- 
ding Janey  and  her  mother  had  been  planning,  sew- 
ing, and  packing;  Lu  and  Madeline  lending  all  the 
aid  they  could  when  household  tasks  and  garden 
work  were  not  demanding  them.  Each  one  was  given 


288  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

some  share  in  the  work  of  making  the  dainty  gar- 
ments that  were  needed  to  make  up  her  simple  and 
serviceable  wardrobe.  The  wedding  dress  alone  was 
untouched  by  any  hands  save  those  of  Mrs.  Warren. 

"Let  me  do  this  all  by  myself,"  she  had  pleaded 
that  morning  when  the  package  was  opened  out  on 
the  table  and  she  lifted  almost  reverently  the  folds 
of  soft  white  material  from  its  tissue  wrappings.  "I 
am  selfish,  I  know,  in  wanting  every  stitch  of  this 
to  be  mine;  but  I've  made  the  wedding  dresses  for 
more  than  half  the  brides  of  this  town  for  many  a 
year  now,  and  I  would  that  no  one  else  have  part  in 
the  making  of  my  own  little  daughter's.  It  is  the  one 
thing  I  ask.  It  is  all  I  can  do  for  her  now." 

And  no  one,  not  even  Madeline,  offered  to  disturb 
or  relieve  her  of  her  self-appointed  task,  as  with 
tender  hands  she  cut  and  fashioned  the  material  ac- 
cording to  her  own  desire,  completing  it  finally  after 
many  a  loving  stitch,  a  beautiful  garment  in  its  sim- 
plicity and  purity. 

Ned  did  everything  a  boy  could  do  about  the  place, 
caring  for  the  lawn,  trimming  vines  and  shrubs,  and 
making  small  repairs  here  and  there  where  needed. 
Lu  planned  the  wedding  luncheon,  and  for  once 
reveled  in  the  liberty  accorded  her  of  having  just 
what  she  wanted  to  carry  out  her  plans.  And  it  was 
her  hands  and  Madeline's  that  decorated  all  the 
rooms  early  on  the  bridal  morning  with  sweet  wild 
roses.  Everywhere  they  placed  them,  filling  vase 
and  bowl  and  glass  and  other  receptacles,  besides 
twining  them  above  windows  and  doorway,  while  the 


v 


m 


"  'Reckon  the  old  place  don't  seem  jest  as  homelike  and 
natural,  son,  as  it  used  to  'fore  you  went  to  workin'  in  the 
bank  an'  runnin'  round  back  thar  in  them  well-settled 
States,'  remarked  Mr.  Gibson."  (See  page  281.) 


WILD  ROSES  AND   FORGET-ME-NOTS          289 

bridal  bouquet  itself  consisted  of  nothing  more  or 
less  than  long  sprays  of  the  wild  pink  beauties,  in- 
terspersed with  a  few  forget-me-nots. 

It  was  all  over  at  last,  the  quiet  little  wedding  with 
its  accompanying  smiles  through  tears.  With  that 
dignity  and  quiet  grace  that  always  characterized 
his  manner,  Elder  Clayton  had  performed  the  simple, 
beautiful  ceremony  which  joined  them  for  life, 
though  his  voice  had  trembled  and  broken  slightly 
once  or  twice  before  he  finished  the  solemn  rite. 

The  dainty  luncheon  was  served  entirely  by  Lu 
and  Mamie,  Madeline  and  Ned,  and  the  moments 
passed  speedily  till  the  time  for  departure.  Exchang- 
ing the  bridal  dress  for  a  rose-colored  suit,  and  look- 
ing fairer  and  sweeter  than  the  fairest  of  blossoms, 
the  little  bride  went  away  with  her  husband,  away 
from  the  quiet  peace  and  shelter  of  the  humble 
home,  out  into  the  great,  wide  vineyard,  to  answer 
the  Master's  call  for  workers,  and  wild  rose  petals 
drooped  sympathetically  with  the  hearts  left  behind. 

Not  many  days  later  the  warm  July  sun  looked 
down  upon  the  softly  rolling  billows  of  the  Pacific, 
and  smiled  benignly  on  a  certain  magnificent  ocean 
liner,  plowing  its  way  across  the  blue  waters.  The 
vessel  was  several  days  out  of  port.  In  a  quiet  cor- 
ner of  the  main  deck  Robert  was  reclining  rather 
languidly  in  one  of  the  big  steamer  chairs.  Yester- 
day had  been  his  first  respite  from  seasickness,  and 
to-day  he  had  ventured  on  deck.  His  wife  had  just 
tucked  the  steamer  rug  comfortably  about  him  and 
VS— 19 


290  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

ran  off  gayly  to  answer  the  call  of  some  new  ac- 
quaintance, with  the  promise  to  be  back  in  a  few 
moments.  Robert  smiled  at  the  bright  face  till  it  dis- 
appeared around  the  corner,  watched  eagerly  and  a 
little  impatiently  a  short  time  for  her  return,  then 
fell  into  a  retrospective  mood  which  changed  oc- 
casionally into  vaguely  defined  plans  for  future  work. 

The  cool  breeze  blew  about  him  with  invigorating 
freshness  and  half  dreamily  he  lived  over  again  the 
days  and  events  just  prior  to  his  departure  from 
home.  This  retrospection  took  him  back,  first  to  the 
short  visit  he  had  made  to  Clifton  City  at  commence- 
ment time.  It  had  been  a  happy  chance  that  had 
afforded  him  this  opportunity.  A  business  man  and 
friend  of  his  in  Banforth,  whose  son  was  graduating 
from  the  dentistry  department,  was  to  drive  over  in 
his  car  for  the  commencement  exercises  and  invited 
Robert  to  accompany  him  on  the  two-day  trip,  an 
unexpected  treat  which  the  young  man  felt  he  could 
not  afford  to  miss,  and  he  had  gone.  Many  of  the 
old  students  he  had  known  had  finished  their  work 
and  gone  away,  and  others,  who  like  himself  had 
been  unable  to  finish  the  desired  course,  he  missed 
from  among  the  throng.  Yet  many  were  still  there 
of  his  old  acquaintances,  both  of  the  student  body 
and  faculty,  whom  it  was  a  pleasure  to  Robert  to 
meet  again. 

That  evening  he  went  up  to  the  little  room  under 
the  eaves  which  he  had  once  occupied.  It  smelled 
stuffy  and  close,  and  a  few  cobwebs  across  the  win- 


WILD  ROSES  AND  FORGET-ME-NOTS          291 

dow  and  in  the  corner  proved  conclusively  that  it 
was  unoccupied. 

"No  fellow  here  this  winter  quite  so  hard  up  as 
I  was,  evidently,"  Robert  had  mused  with  a  smile, 
brushing  the  cobwebs  away  with  his  hand  and  peer- 
ing out  the  dusty  little  window  at  the  factory  chim- 
neys and  spires  below  and  the  scene  beyond.  The 
next  morning  he  climbed  again  the  hill  to  the 
top  of  the  great  rock  on  the  edge  of  the  cliff  just  in 
time  to  see  the  sun  rise  slowly  from  its  crimson- 
draped  couch  and  begin  its  gradual  ascent  into  the 
blue  heavens.  This  time  no  dark  cloud  pushed  its 
way  athwart  the  clear,  serene  sky;  no  shadow 
hovered  threateningly  near.  Far  below  the  brilliancy 
and  glory  of  this  scene,  and  reflecting  it  but  partially 
in  her  clear  waters,  Silver  River  pursued  her  even 
course.  As  with  Robert,  so  had  she  now  passed  that 
wavering,  uncertain  portion  of  her  life's  journey,  and 
was  moving  steadfastly  and  with  definite  purpose  to- 
wards the  goal. 

The  memory  of  this  scene  and  its  tenor  caused 
Robert's  mind  to  revert  quickly  to  another  that  stood 
out  clearly  and  distinctly  among  the  very  recent 
events.  It  was  the  last  few  moments  which  he  had 
had  with  his  mother  alone,  and  above  the  rhythm  of 
the  waves  as  they  splashed  against  the  sides  of  the 
steamer,  he  seemed  again  to  hear  her  parting  words : 

"Son,"  she  had  whispered,  "in  my  girlhood  days 
I  gave  up  all  that  young  people  usually  count  dear, 
for  the  gospel's  sake.  Money,  position,  friends, 
loved  ones  dear  to  me  by  the  ties  of  nature.  The 


292  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

years  brought  their  due  proportion  of  trials,  vexa- 
tions, and  sore  perplexities.  My  people  who  turned 
me  away  long  ago  have  never  relented.  To  them  I 
have  become  as  an  outcast.  There  have  been  some 
hardships  and  privations,  and  sometimes  the  com- 
forts of  life  have  been  lacking ;  but  to-day  there  are 
no  regrets  in  my  heart  save  for  the  mistakes  I  have 
unintentionally  made  at  times.  The  gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ  is  still  the  greatest  thing  in  the  world  to  me. 
It  is  the  pearl  of  great  price,  which,  having  found, 
one  need  not  want  for  anything  else.  I  count  it  not 
a  hardship,  but  a  privilege  to  speed  you  forth  in  His 
great  mission  work,  for  had  I  ten  sons  I  could  ask 
no  greater  honor  than  that  they  might  be  message 
bearers  of  truth  in  His  vineyard." 

This  had  been  his  mother's  parting  blessing.  They 
were  the  words  with  which  she  had  unselfishly 
yielded  him  up  and  sent  him  forth  as  she  had  ever 
been  willing  to  relinquish  all  things  for  the  Master's 
sake.  Unconsciously  a  tear  stole  out  of  the  corner 
of  his  eye  at  the  remembrance  of  her  endurance  and 
faith,  and  his  hand  was  raised  quickly  to  brush  it 
away. 

"God  has  been  exceedingly  good  to  me  in  giving 
me  first  the  blessing  of  such  a  wonderful  mother,  and 
now  this  equally  wonderful  wife.  With  such  a  mother 
to  rear  him,  and  such  a  companion,  a  man  ought  to 
be  able  to  accomplish  some  good,  and  I'll  be  a  poor 
stick  if  I  don't." 

His  thoughts  were  arrested  at  this  instant  and  his 
eyes  brought  back  from  their  gaze  to  the  far-off 


"I  didn't  make  the  agreement  to  do  all  the  preaching  and 
talking.     I  only  bargained  to  be  a  missionary's  helpmate." 


294  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

horizon  at  the  appearance  of  Janey  as  she  came 
hurrying  back  across  the  deck.  She  was  comfortably 
attired  for  the  cool  sea  breeze,  in  a  long  coat  and 
soft  cap.  Brown  wisps  of  hair  blew  breezily  about 
her  face,  and  her  eyes  were  bright  and  earnest  as 
she  came  toward  him,  notebook  and  pencil  in  hand. 

"Do  hurry  and  become  a  good  sailor  like  I  am, 
Robert,"  she  laughingly  teased  as  she  approached. 
"What  do  you  think !  These  people  around  here  are 
putting  the  questions  to  me  so  fast  I  can  hardly  an- 
swer them.  You  see  I  didn't  make  the  agreement 
to  do  all  the  preaching  and  talking.  I  only  bargained 
to  be  a  missionary's  helpmate.  But  since  I'm  into 
the  argument  on  baptism  with  a  minister  who  flatly 
declares  that  baptism  isn't  a  saving  ordinance,  and 
that  it's  only  the  outward  sign  of  an  inward  grace, 
I  want  to  know  where  that  passage  is  you  so  often 
quote  about  baptism  for  the  remission  of  sins.  Some 
of  Paul's  teachings,  I  think.  Do  tell  me.  I  never  can 
remember  just  where  it  is  found." 

"Peter,  not  Paul,"  corrected  Robert,  "and  you'll 
find  it  in  Acts  2 :  38,  where  Peter  on  the  Day  of 
Pentecost  talked  to  the  people.  You  mean  the  one 
where  he  said,  'Repent  and  be  baptized  every  one  of 
you  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ  for  the  remission 
of  sins,  and  ye  shall  receive  the  gift  of  the  Holy 
Ghost'?" 

"That's  the  one,"  replied  Janey.  "I  always  get 
Peter  and  Paul  mixed  up.  Any  other  places  on  the 
same  point?" 


WILD  ROSES  AND  FORGET-ME-NOTS          295 

"Yes,  you'll  find  similar  statements  in  Mark  1 : 4 
and  Luke  3:3,"  he  answered,  then  added  as  she 
quickly  jotted  them  down  in  her  notebook:  "I  won't 
undertake  to  promenade  the  deck  yet,  and  to  go 
flitting  hither  and  thither  as  you  do ;  but  if  you'll  in- 
duce those  people  to  come  here  I'll  relieve  you  of 
some  of  your  missionary  burdens ;  though  I  doubt  if 
I  can  make  half  so  good  a  preacher,"  he  finished 
with  an  admiring  look. 

"Do  you  think  you  are  really  strong  enough?" 

"Feeling  fine  and  improving  every  minute.  Bring 
them  along.  Only  promise  to  bring  yourself  back 
and  stay." 

She  was  gone  and  back  in  a  short  time,  accom- 
panied by  several  people,  one  a  tall,  scholarly-looking 
gentleman  of  ministerial  type,  his  wife  and  daughter, 
also  a  middle-aged  couple  bound  for  Australia.  Chairs 
were  soon  found  and  the  topic  of  conversation  hav- 
ing already  been  launched,  the  group  was  soon  deep 
in  a  lively  discussion  on  the  necessity  for  baptism, 
mode,  and  so  on,  and  certain  other  doctrinal  sub- 
jects, such  as  present-day  revelation,  the  ordinance 
of  the  laying  on  of  hands  for  the  bestowal  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  and  divine  calling. 

Thus  did  our  young  friends  begin  the  labors  of  a 
long  and  foreign  mission  on  board  the  great,  west- 
bound liner,  as  it  steadily  pursued  its  way  across  the 
mighty  waters. 


296  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

CHAPTER  29 

FROM  NEAR  AND  FAR 

riplHERE  WERE  many  changes  in  the  personnel 
of  the  branch  in  Banforth  that  fall — changes 
which  brought  their  heartaches  to  more  than 
one;  nevertheless,  the  latter  were  well  hidden  be- 
neath cheerful  faces,  as  each  one  valiantly  took  up 
his  own  burden. 

Elder  Clayton  had  accompanied  Robert  and  Janey 
as  far  as  San  Francisco,  then  went  to  his  mission 
field  in  Oregon.  Left  thus  alone  for  the  year,  without 
either  the  husband  or  son,  Mrs.  Clayton  decided  that 
since  Mamie  was  to  enter  Graceland  College  she 
might  as  well  go  with  her  as  to  remain  at  home  alone. 
Accordingly  she  made  arrangements  to  rent  the 
home  for  a  year,  and  the  latter  part  of  August  found 
them  on  their  way  to  Lamoni.  Furnished  rooms  were 
rented  on  their  arrival,  and  the  mother  obtaining  a 
few  student  boarders  was  thus  enabled  to  meet  a 
portion  of  her  own  and  Mamie's  expenses.  Ned  fol- 
lowed them  a  few  weeks  later,  securing  sufficient 
work  at  the  college  farm  outside  of  school  hours  to 
earn  his  board.  Ned  had  hesitated  a  long  time  about 
venturing  into  college  work  so  soon  and  with  so  little 
money,  besides  feeling  that  he  was  needed  at  home; 
but  his  mother,  knowing  how  his  heart  was  set  on 
it,  declared  herself  well  able  to  continue  her  sewing 


FROM  NEAR  AND   FAR  297 

and  make  sufficient  to  keep  herself  and  the  two  girls, 
and  Lu  had  joined  her  in  urging  him  to  go. 

Elder  Elldon,  having  been  appointed  to  labor  in  the 
district  and  to  take  Robert's  place  as  president  of  the 
Banforth  Branch,  moved  his  family  there  early  in 
the  summer  and  took  charge  of  the  work.  On  Billy's 
return  from  Dakota,  after  his  vacation,  he  was  or- 
dained priest  of  the  branch  and  appointed  as  bishop's 
agent  of  the  district. 

So,  notwithstanding  all  the  changes  and  the  loss 
of  several  who  had  been  their  leading  workers,  the 
affairs  of  both  branch  and  district  were  not  neg- 
lected. Work  there  was  in  plenty  for  everyone,  both 
those  at  home  and  abroad  who  were  willing  to  give 
service,  and  work  is  God's  great  blessing  to  mankind. 
A  hint  of  the  activities  of  these  young  people  during 
the  autumn  and  early  winter,  in  their  now  widely 
divergent  and  separated  fields  of  labor,  is  given  in  a 
number  of  holiday  letters.  Lu's,  written  in  the  quiet 
of  home  New  Year's  morning  in  her  off-hand,  spon- 
taneous way,  brought  a  measure  of  cheer,  all  out  of 
proportion  to  its  length,  to  the  homesick  sister  across 
the  waters,  though  it  was  not  altogether  without  its 
hidden  touch  of  pathos.  A  peep  into  it  over  Janey's 
shoulder  reveals  the  following  bits  of  homey  news : 

"Dear  Janey :  I've  just  finished  making  my  New 
Year's  resolutions.  They  are  two  in  number.  The 
first  is,  I've  resolved  to  write  to  you  regularly  once 
a  week,  no  matter  if  there  isn't  a  steamer  to  carry 
them  that  often.  The  second,  to  try  to  act  sane  and 


298  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

sensible  and  not  make  so  many  horrid  blunders  this 
year.  The  first  one  I  fully  expect  to  keep ;  but  the 
latter — I'm  fearful  every  minute  I'll  break  it  before 
the  day  is  over. 

"We  approached  the  holiday  season  this  year  with 
trepidation,  mother  and  Madeline  and  I,  as  doubtless 
you  may  guess,  since  it's  the  first  time  our  household 
has  undertaken  to  make  merry  at  the  festive  season 
of  the  year  with  half  the  family  away,  to  say  nothing 
of  a  lot  of  our  friends  gone.     Even  Billy  suddenly 
skylarked  off  to  North  Dakota  again,  this  time  to 
attend  the  wedding  nuptials  of  his  sister  Sally,  which 
were  observed  on  Christmas  morning.     (So  Meta 
Benders  informed  me  last  night.)     Of  course  Billy's 
going  made  a  lot  of  the  work  fall  on  some  of  the  rest 
of  us.    Christmas  entertainment  was  on  hand,  and 
other  matters  to  be  looked  after  at  the  church.    I 
must  say  it  was  very  inconsiderate  of  his  sister  to 
get  married  and  call  him  home  this  time  of  the  year 
when  we  needed  him  badly.    However,  matters  went 
along  fairly  well,  and  nobody  fussed  or  got  jealous  if 
some  one  else's  boy  or  girl  was  asked  to  speak  or 
sing  more  than  theirs;  that  is,  no  one  except  Mr. 
Midsby,  and  we're  so  used  to  his  tantrums  they  don't 
count.    I  sure  was  tired  when  it  was  over.    It  was, 
as  you  know,  my  first  experience  heading  a  propo- 
sition like  that. 

''Then  Madeline  and  I  had  to  plan  for  Christmas 
Day.  Mother  looked  downcast  when  we  talked  about 
spending  it  alone,  and  there  seemed  no  place  to  go. 


FROM   NEAR   AND   FAR  299 

That  left  us  the  only  alternative,  which  was  to  get 
up  a  feast  and  invite  somebody  in.  The  first  was 
easy  since  King  Athamas, 

"The  last  of  his  tribe,  left  gobbling  alone, 
All  his  fattened  companions  now  eaten  and  gone," 

was  in  captivity  calmly  awaiting  his  doom.  He  had 
gobbled  up  everything  in  sight  and  very  accommodat- 
ingly covered  his  bones  with  good  turkey  flesh  and 
fat,  ready  in  turn  to  be  gobbled. 

"So  you  see  killing  and  eating  King  Athamas  isn't 
so  cannibalistic  as  it  sounds.  Madeline  and  I  named 
him  thus  appropriately  last  summer  when  we  dis- 
covered his  nomadic  proclivities,  for  of  all  roving 
turkeys  in  my  experience  he  was  the  'rovingest.' 
Doubtless  you  remember  something  of  King  Atha- 
mas, in  the  story  of  the  'Golden  Fleece/  who  was  told 
by  the  Oracle  that  he  must  wander  about  till  the 
wild  beasts  should  eat  him  for  their  guest. 

'  Well,  with  him  in  the  pen,  a  good  twenty-pounder, 
plenty  of  pumpkins  in  the  cellar,  and  an  abundance 
of  milk  and  eggs,  a  successful  feast  was  unques- 
tioned. 

"But  when  it  came  to  the  invitations — ah,  here 
was  a  difficulty.  Our  dearest  friends  were  out  of 
town,  our  second  best  were  either  invited  out  or  hav- 
ing family  dinners  of  their  own.  Circumstances 
seemed  against  us,  but  about  that  time  Madeline  and 
I  had  a  bright  idea.  We  happened  to  remember  that 
the  Scriptures  said  something  about  what  to  do  when 
you  make  a  feast.  We  got  out  our  Bible  and  hunted 


300  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

it  up.  It  said  that  when  you  make  a  feast  you  are  to 
call  the  poor,  the  maimed,  the  lame,  and  the  blind. 
Funny  how  prone  we  are  to  dodge  some  of  the  com- 
mandments, till  they  suit  our  convenience,  or  we  are 
hedged  up  in  some  way  and  obliged  to  keep  'em.  It 
only  shows  that  the  average  human  creatures  need 
adversity  occasionally  to  shake  'em  out  of  their  sel- 
fishness and  set  'em  thinking.  I  suppose  it's  best  for 
us,  though  the  shaking  isn't  agreeable  as  I'd  like. 

"However,  here  was  our  opportunity,  and  we 
would  go  out  into  the  highways  and  byways  of  Ban- 
forth  and  bring  them  in.  Not  so  easily  done  as  said. 
We  canvassed  the  town  in  our  minds  and  discovered 
that  so  far  as  we  knew  there  wasn't  an  underfed  per- 
son within  its  limits.  Three  relief  societies  kept  the 
possibly  needy  ones  amply  supplied  with  food  and 
clothing.  There  wasn't  a  cripple  to  be  seen,  and  the 
only  blind  boy  we  knew  of  had  gone  away  to  school. 
Everyone  was  provokingly  well  and  prosperous,  and 
at  a  time,  too,  when  we  had  the  best  of  intentions. 

' 'Finally  we  heard  of  a  widow  and  family  who  lived 
a  little  way  out  of  town.  Having  recently  moved  into 
the  community,  they  were  strangers  to  nearly  every- 
one, and  were  said  to  be  in  need,  so  we  were  directed 
there  on  our  errand  of  good  will.  We  went  and  asked, 
they  came  and  ate.  There  was  a  grandmother  who 
was  a  little  nearsighted,  and  one  of  the  boys  had 
fallen  off  the  bam  the  day  before  and  was  slightly 
maimed  in  the  head,  so  our  guests  approached  the 
proper  description  after  all.  We  were  rewarded  for 


FROM   NEAR   AND   FAR  301 

our  good  works  before  the  day  was  over.  Farmer 
Grayson  drove  to  town  with  his  big  bobsled,  and  took 
us  all  out  to  his  place  to  spend  the  evening.  We  had 
a  dandy  ride,  and  a  good  time  fixing  up  the  jolliest 
little  Christmas  tree  in  the  best  room  of  the  farm- 
house. Elder  Elldon  gave  us  a  beautiful  talk  on  the 
Christmas  theme,  and  it  was  late  when  we  came 
home,  the  moonlight  bright  upon  the  snow.  The 
sleighing  has  been  fine  for  a  month. 

"The  rest  of  the  events  of  the  week  have  been  quite 
ordinary,  with  Madeline  and  I  helping  mother  and 
trying  to  get  some  school  clothes  made.  This  having 
to  wait  for  letters  from  you  for  weeks  is  tiresome 
business.  Mother  always  said  I  needed  to  culti- 
vate patience.  This  is  giving  me  a  splendid  oppor- 
tunity. I  wish  some  philanthropist  would  establish 
a  daily  steamship  line,  or  some  inventor  a  quicker 
means  of  communication.  Good-by  till  next  week. 

"Lu. 

"P.  S.— Four  p.  m.    Billy  got  back  to-day." 

The  second  letter  was  from  Ned,  headed  at  Grace- 
land  College,  Lamoni,  Iowa,  and  addressed  to  Lu.  In 
typical  boy  fashion  it  began : 

"Dear  Sis:  It's  some  lonesome  out  here  these  two 
weeks  with  half  the  students  gone  home,  a  fourth 
of  them  housed  with  friends,  and  the  remaining  un- 
lucky fourth  short  of  money  and  hunting  jobs  or  else 
wandering  idly  around  trying  to  pass  the  time  until 
the  holidays  are  over.  Luckily  I  chance  to  be  among 
those  who  have  a  job  and  am  doing  hauling  for  a 


302  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

man  in  the  country.  I  hope  it  will  hold  out  till  col- 
lege opens. 

"Five  more  days  and  the  deserted  dormitories  and 
college  will  be  filled  again  and  there'll  be  plenty  going 
on.  They'll  all  be  glad  to  get  back,  too.  And  that 
makes  me  think.  There's  something  funny  about 
this  place.  I  haven't  quite  made  it  out  yet,  but  I've 
been  watching  the  students  and  listening  to  them 
talk  ever  since  I  came.  They're  the  most  loyal  set 
I  ever  saw.  Maybe  when  they  first  came  they  felt 
disappointed  about  some  things.  They  mostly  do. 
The  buildings  aren't  as  fine  as  they  expected  or  the 
college  isn't  run  just  according  to  their  idea. 

"I  confess  to  a  feeling  of  this  sort  myself  when  I 
first  came.  The  town  wasn't  so  big  as  I  had  thought 
it  would  be,  and  so  quiet  that  I  wondered  why  the 
headquarters  of  the  church  had  been  set  away  off 
here  among  these  rolling  prairies.  Then  I  began  to 
wonder  if  I  hadn't  made  a  mistake  in  coming  here  to 
college  instead  of  going  to  the  big  one  at  Clifton 
City  which  was  nearer  home. 

"But  I  notice  the  most  of  the  students  get  over  this 
feeling  after  they've  been  here  awhile,  and  I  find  I'm 
like  the  rest  of  them.  There's  something  here  that 
draws  you  closer  and  makes  you  like  it  better  every 
day,  and  the  longer  a  student  stays  the  longer  he 
wants  to  stay.  I  know  it  isn't  the  location,  though 
it's  a  beautiful  one;  nor  the  campus,  which  has 
wonderful  possibilities  if  we  had  the  money  to  de- 
velop them;  neither  is  it  the  plain,  unpretentious 
buildings,  which  makes  the  'tie  that  binds.'  The 


FROM  NEAR   AND   FAR  303 

first  semester  is  not  quite  finished,  and  already  I  am 
more  than  content  with  my  choice.  In  fact,  I  wouldn't 
trade  some  of  my  experiences  since  coming  for  those 
you  could  get  in  the  biggest  college  or  university  in 
the  land,  for  you  get  lessons  here  that  can't  be  put 
into  books. 

"In  the  main  the  students  are  a  fine  lot,  and  they 
come  from  all  parts  of  the  country.  The  most  of 
them  are  making  a  sacrifice  to  get  here,  or  their 
parents  are  sacrificing  for  them,  and  they  are  here 
for  work.  Oh,  there  are  a  few  idlers,  of  course, 
among  them — there  always  are  in  any  place,  and 
they  must  drift  out  by  and  by  as  they  have  drifted  in. 

"But  our  instructors — I  wish  I  could  make  you 
realize,  sis,  what  a  splendid  bunch  they  are — the 
sacrifices  they've  made,  some  of  them  for  years,  and 
are  still  making  for  our  sake.  Prominent  educators 
from  other  parts  who  happen  in,  marvel  that  men  of 
their  ability  and  achievement,  who  could  make  high 
honors  out  in  the  world,  are  willing  to  remain  here 
and  give  their  best  with  so  little  recompense,  as  they 
view  it.  I've  almost  wondered,  too,  at  times,  even 
with  my  ambitions,  but  the  better  I  know  them  the 
more  I  admire  their  faith  and  purpose,  which  those 
other  men  cannot  understand. 

"People  have  told  me  that  the  way  some  of  the 
higher  studies  are  taught  in  many  larger  colleges  and 
universities  ofttimes  makes  skeptics  of  our  young 
people.  It  isn't  so  with  Graceland.  Our  men  link  up 
true  science  and  religion  in  a  way  that  makes  your 
faith  stronger  than  ever,  and  you  wonder  why  you 


304  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

never  understood  it  before.  The  laws  of  true  science, 
true  religion,  Lu,  are  all  God-made,  and  they  never 
clash.  It  is  only  a  misunderstanding  or  a  human 
interpretation  of  any  of  these  laws  that  causes  us 
to  get  mixed  up  on  such  things.  I  only  wish  you 
could  hear  our  psychology  instructor  give  some  of 
his  splendid  lectures. 

"As  for  athletics — you  know  how  crazy  I've  been 
about  them  ever  since  Rob  organized  our  club  in 
Banforth.  I  received  my  first  lessons  in  playing 
clean,  square  games  from  him  back  there  in  my  high 
school  days  that  I  can  never  forget.  We  get  a  con- 
tinuance of  those  kind  of  lessons  here  under  a  man 
who  is  conscientious  in  his  work  and  thorough  in  his 
training. 

"Everybody  knows  about  the  good  work  'Uncle 
Jerry*  has  done  and  is  still  doing  for  Graceland,  and 
there  have  doubtless  been  dozens  whom  I  know  noth- 
ing about  who  have  done  their  part  along  the  way  in 
sustaining  and  working  to  make  our  college  a  power 
for  good  among  the  young  people  of  the  church. 

"But  a  Graceland  prayer  meeting !  If  you  spent  a 
year  here  and  didn't  attend  one  of  our  Wednesday 
night  prayer  meetings,  you  would  go  away  without 
coming  in  touch  with  her  spiritual,  centralizing  force. 
No,  there's  nothing  particularly  spectacular  about 
them,  though  the  gifts  of  the  Spirit  are  often  mani- 
fest to  a  wonderful  degree;  but  just  listening  to  the 
prayers  and  testimonies  of  many  of  these  earnest 
young  people  you  can't  help  feeling  that  God  is  near. 


FROM  NEAR  AND  FAR  305 

Our  instructors  are  there  as  fellow  workers  with  us, 
not  above  us,  and  I  wish  you  could  hear  them  tell  of 
some  of  their  experiences.  As  our  Rob  sacrificed  his 
lifelong  ambitions  for  the  sake  of  missionary  work, 
so  are  they  sacrificing  worldly  position  with  its 
money  and  honor  for  Graceland's  sake,  and  yet  they, 
one  and  all,  seem  to  feel  as  one  of  them  said  the 
other  night  in  the  meeting:  'These  things  seem  not 
to  me  now  to  be  any  sacrifice  whatever;  for  if  by 
these  things,  these  sacrifices  (if  such  they  were) 
and  by  suffering  and  trials,  my  life  has  been  made 
more  tender,  more  nearly  like  the  pattern  given  by 
the  Master,  I  shall  be  well  repaid.  And  I  would  not 
give  one  hour  under  the  tender  ministrations  of  the 
Spirit  as  we  receive  it  here,  for  a  lifetime  spent  amid 
the  pleasures  and  honors  of  the  world.' 

"It's  wonderful,  sis,  and  can't  be  described.  The 
power  which  influences  men  to  have  such  faith  and 
devotion  can  only  be  felt,  and  I  hope  to  learn  how  to 
labor  and  consecrate  my  life  so  that  I  may  be  pre- 
pared, in  the  years  to  come,  to  help  support  and 
sustain  our  school  as  these  men  are  now  doing. 

"Well,  so  long.  Don't  think  I've  gone  daffy  over 
the  subject,  but  if  you  ever  hear  anybody  say  any- 
thing against  Graceland,  just  refer  them  to  your  big 
brother. 

"That  Christmas  cake  and  baked  chicken  and  ap- 
ples you  sent  last  week  were  great.  I  invited  four 
of  the  boys  up  to  my  room  that  evening  and  we  had 
some  feast,  I  tell  you.  All  declared  it  was  the  best 
ever.  I  know  you  and  mother  are  making  a  sacri- 
VS— 20 


306  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

fice  for  me  this  winter,  and  I  hope  I  can  return  it  in 
part  some  day  by  helping  you  to  get  that  longed-for 
course  in  music  after  you've  finished  high  school. 
"Your  big  brother, 

"NED." 

The  remaining  letter  was  postmarked  at  an  island 
in  the  Pacific,  and  brought  its  wealth  of  affection  and 
newsy  bits  from  the  faithful  little  heart  over  the 
seas. 

Dear  Ones  at  Home:  It  is  the  day  before  Christ- 
mas, and  I  have  been  making  some  pies,  or  rather 
one  pie,  and  a  piece  of  another  (made  of  the  left 
overs) .  While  doing  so  I  cut  my  finger  on  my  bread 
board!  Can  you  imagine  it?  Lu  would  scorn  such 
a  board,  I  fear,  and  the  domestic  science  teachers 
would  surely  hold  up  their  hands  aghast.  They  tell 
us  to  use  a  marble  slab  when  mixing  pie  crust,  but 
I  guess  a  broken  pane  of  glass  is  just  as  good,  even 
if  it  doesn't  sound  quite  so  elegant.  Anyhow  it 
serves  the  purpose  when  you  can't  find  anything  bet- 
ter. My  rolling-pin — promise  not  to  laugh — is  an  old 
beer  bottle,  the  kind  legacy  of  the  former  occupants 
of  the  house.  Now  don't  feel  sympathetic,  for  you 
would  be  surprised  how  well  this  combination  works. 
I  fear  I  shall  have  to  put  a  patent  on  it  yet,  when 
other  people  get  acquainted  with  its  virtues. 

"We  are  getting  along  fine  now,  and  adding  con- 
stantly, if  slowly,  to  our  household  equipment.  One 
of  our  friends  here  has  promised  the  loan  of  his 
desk,  which  we  covet  earnestly.  When  we  get  it  I 


FROM   NEAR   AND   FAR  307 

think  I'll  do  better  at  the  writing  proposition.  My 
typewriter  table  now  is  a  goods  box.  This  same  box 
turned  over  another  way  seats  part  of  my  Sunday 
school  class  on  Sundays.  Blessed  be  the  man  who 
invented  dry  goods  boxes,  for  he  surely  served  poor 
missionaries  a  good  turn  when  he  did  it. 

"Yesterday  I  made  a  box  of  fudge  apiece  for  my 
Sunday  school  class.  Robert  helped  me.  We  fixed 
up  a  number  of  little  bonbon  boxes,  and  I  had  a  few 
scraps  of  narrow  ribbon  and  gilt  cord  with  which  to 
tie  them  up.  We  made  divinity  and  chocolate  fudge 
and  mixed  the  two.  That  is  all  the  Christmas  pres- 
ents I  have  ventured  to  prepare.  I  want  to  get  some- 
thing for  Robert.  Don't  know  what  yet,  as  his  mind 
seems  to  waver  between  socks  and  suspenders.  We 
have  lots  of  fun  over  our  poverty-stricken  condition, 
and  make  the  best  of  things  as  they  are,  and  in  this 
our  experiences  are  not  unlike  those  of  others.  Fi- 
nancial straits  seem  to  be  a  part  of  missionary  life. 

"The  last  mail  before  Christmas  came  this  morn- 
ing. Wasn't  that  lovely?  And  I  want  to  tell  you 
how  perfectly  splendid  all  my  Christmas  presents 
were.  First  came  the  package  from  home,  with  its 
dainty  tokens  of  love  from  all  of  you.  Next  came 
a  ten-dollar  bill  in  a  registered  letter  from  Mother 
Clayton  and  Mamie.  How  could  they  spare  it,  I 
wonder  ?  Then  a  check  for  ten  dollars  from  the  home 
Sunday  school.  And  from  somebody  and  somewhere 
a  letter  containing  only  a  blank  sheet  of  paper  folded 
about  another  ten.  Not  a  word  of  any  kind  as  a  clew 
to  the  sender,  and  the  postmark  is  a  strange  one.  I 


308  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

wish  we  knew  who  to  thank  for  it.  We  feel  quite 
rich,  and  I  can  assure  you  we  can  make  good  use  of 
all  of  it. 

"We  fixed  up  a  little  jewel  of  a  darkroom,  and  are 
busy  in  our  spare  time  making  pictures  for  a  book 
we  have  which  we  think  is  going  to  be  something 
wonderful  when  the  camera  is  allowed  to  tell  the  tale 
of  all  our  wanderings. 

"I  love  these  people  here,  and  in  spite  of  the  diffi- 
culties and  perplexities  that  confront  one,  I  am  glad 
we  came.  Sometimes  I  feel  ashamed  at  my  own  lack 
of  faith  and  courage  when  I  see  the  manifestations 
of  such  great  faith  in  their  lives,  and  their  humility 
and  simplicity.  How  glad  I  shall  be  when  all  people 
may  rejoice  in  'His  love/  and  more  especially  do  I 
feel  this  way  since  I  have  seen  with  my  own  eyes 
those  who  worship  idols.  But  in  many  instances  the 
white  missionaries  have  not  bettered  matters.  They 
have  come  to  them  with  the  Bible  in  one  hand  and  the 
whisky  bottle  in  the  other,  and  even  some  of  the 
little  folks  are  sharp  enough  to  see  these  incon- 
sistencies. 

"Yes,  I  truly  love  these  people,  and  I  enjoy  the 
work  here,  with  them,  but  I  need  to  be  a  great  deal 
more  efficient  than  I  am.  What  a  responsibility  it  is  to 
try  to  carry  the  message  of  the  Master,  and  who  can 
feel  worthy  to  do  it?  Never  forget  to  pray  in  our 
behalf,  that  our  efforts  may  bear  fruit  in  this  far- 
off  corner  of  the  Master's  vineyard. 

"Lovingly  and  faithfully, 

"JANEY." 


ONLY   A    PLODDER  309 


CHAPTER  30 


November  lays  her  quiet  hand 
O'er  all  the  waiting  autumn  land, 
And  bids  for  one  brief  hour  of  peace 
The  wild  wail  of  the  north  winds  cease; 
While  veiled  in  tender  azure  haze 
Come  golden  Indian  summer  days. 

November  hours  are  strangely  still, 
No  flower  is  hers  on  vale  or  hill, 
No  singing  bird  beside  the  way 
Calls  where  the  robin  sang  in  May, 
And  swings  the  oriole's  hammock  nest 
A  speck  against  the  paling  west. 

November  fields  are  brown  and  sere, 
Gathered  the  harvest  of  the  year; 
But  sweet  as  hours  of  royal  June 
This  one  late  golden  afternoon, 
When  over  all  the  autunm  land 
November  lays  her  quiet  hand. 

— Lillian  E.  Andrews. 

LATE  winter  passed  quietly  away  and  merged 
itself  gradually  into  spring.  Again  the  roses  of 
June  came,  with  their  fragrance   and  their 
memories,  and  drifted  away.   Another  season's  har- 
vest was  gathered,  and  the  brooding  stillness  of  In- 
dian summer  days  had  come.    It  was  one  of  those 
golden  afternoons  described  in  the  little  poem  above, 


310  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

one  of  restful  peace,  of  tender  skies,  of  purple  haze 
showered  through  with  mellow  sunlight. 

"Lu,  oh,  Lu;  where  are  you?"  Mrs.  Warren's 
voice  did  not  carry  far,  even  in  the  quiet  atmosphere, 
as  she  stood  on  the  kitchen  doorstep  and  called.  She 
looked  thinner  and  more  frail  than  a  year  ago,  and 
her  voice  had  lost  something  of  its  old-time  strength 
and  cheeriness.  A  fretful  look,  so  unaccustomed  to 
finding  lodgment  there,  paused  on  her  brow  a  mo- 
ment almost  in  surprise  at  its  own  daring,  then 
slipped  hurriedly  away. 

"Where  can  the  girl  be?  I  wonder,"  she  mused, 
thoughtfully.  "I  heard  her  here  in  the  kitchen  a 
moment  ago.  The  cleaning  is  finished,  but  she  hasn't 
had  time  to  change  her  dress  since;  besides,  she 
never  goes  far  without  letting  me  know.  Well,  maybe 
it's  just  as  well.  The  Saturday's  work  has  been 
heavy,  and  the  walk  to  Mrs.  Drake's  with  the  dress 
would  be  a  long  one.  I'll  just  phone  her  and  per- 
haps she  can  send  one  of  the  boys  over  for  it." 

She  paused  on  the  doorstep  a  moment  longer,  in 
the  warmth  of  the  sunshine,  then  turned  indoors 
with  something  of  a  repressed  sigh,  and  after  get- 
ting a  favorable  answer  from  her  telephone  call,  she 
folded  the  completed  garment  carefully,  together 
with  the  remnants  of  material  left,  and  wrapped 
them  in  a  neat  bundle.  Then,  contrary  to  her  cus- 
tom, without  closing  the  machine  or  picking  up  the 
bits  of  thread  and  scraps  on  the  carpet,  she  lay  down 


ONLY   A    PLODDER  311 

on  the  couch  and  closed  weary  eyelids,  dropping  at 
once  into  restful  slumber. 


It  would  have  taken  a  much  stronger  call  than 
Mrs.  Warren's  to  have  reached  Lu  at  that  time, 
though  the  distance  from  the  kitchen  door  to  her 
whereabouts  was  not  a  great  one.  It  would  have  been 
evident  to  anyone  who  knew  her  that  something  out 
of  the  ordinary  had  been  on  the  girl's  mind  all  day. 
As  was  her  custom,  under  such  circumstances,  she 
had  worked  silently  and  with  steadily  increasing 
haste,  until  by  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  the 
Saturday's  work  almost  done  and  her  strength  well- 
nigh  exhausted,  she  had  given  mop  and  broom  a 
final  fling  as  she  reached  the  last  porch  step,  and 
fled  to  the  quiet  seclusion  of  the  old  barn  loft.  There, 
high  up  in  the  haymow,  with  the  warm,  golden  sun- 
shine streaming  in  through  the  wide-open  window 
upon  her,  she  had  thrown  herself  face  down  in  the 
midst  of  the  soft  piles  of  sweet-smelling  hay,  and 
lay  a  rebellious  and  disconsolate  little  heap  of  tense 
muscles  and  overwrought  nerves. 

"I  just  can't  ever  do  it — I  know  I  can't,"  she  re- 
peated over  and  over,  her  voice  muffled  in  the  hay, 
the  dry  sobs  rising  up  in  her  throat  and  refusing  to 
be  lowered.  "Ned  would  come  home  quicker  than 
scat  if  he  knew  it — and  I  just  know  it  wouldn't  be 
so  hard  for  him  as  it  is  for  me.  He's  a  lot  farther 
along  than  I  am  anyhow." 

The  small  brown  hands,  roughened  a  trifle  with 


312  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

the  Saturday's  cooking  and  scrubbing,  and  reddened 
with  two  or  three  slight  burns,  clenched  their  supple 
fingers,  and  the  throbbing  little  figure  grew  quiet 
for  a  few  moments.  Then  she  rolled  over  on  one  side 
and  wailed  disconsolately: 

"Oh,  dear!  Why  did  things  have  to  happen  this 
way  ?  If  I  hadn't  had  to  miss  a  little  school  now  and 
then  all  the  way  along  I  could  have  gotten  through 
at  as  early  an  age  as  Janey  did.  It  wasn't  my  fault 
I  didn't — and  now — now,  I  must  give  it  up,  and  just 
a  few  months  before  graduation,  too.  Or  else  I'll 
have  to  write  Ned  and  call  him  home  from  Graceland. 
I  don't  want  to  do  that — I  can't  bear  to  do  it,  while 
he's  so  anxious  to  get  through  with  his  second  year, 
and  yet — I  just  can't  give  up  to  stay  at  home  myself 
and  do  the  work  and  most  of  the  sewing.  But  some- 
body's got  to  do  something.  Mother's  breaking 
down.  I  can  see  it  more  plainly  every  day,  and  either 
Ned  must  come  home  and  earn  the  living  and  maybe 
miss  out  altogether  on  the  rest  of  the  college  course, 
or  I  must  stop  school  and  lift  the  burden  from 
mother." 

Again  there  was  silence  for  a  time  in  the  old  hay- 
mow, while  outside,  under  the  eaves,  a  half  dozen 
sparrows  scolded  and  chattered,  and  high  up  in  the 
nests  in  the  gable  the  gentle  pigeons  flew  in  and  out, 
or  perched  on  the  roof  and  cooed  to  their  mates. 

"It  isn't  fair — it  isn't  right  to  have  to  give  up 
everything."  The  words  were  muffled  in  the  hay 
again.  "Last  year  we  had  to  lose  Janey,  and  then 
in  the  fall,  a  little  while  after,  to  let  Ned  go  away. 


ONLY   A    PLODDER  313 

The  home  isn't  ever  like  it  used  to  be  any  more, 
with  them  gone — and  now — if  I  have  to  give  up 
school,  too,  there  just  isn't  anything  the  same.  Oh, 
why  couldn't  it  be  so  I  could  finish?" 

She  tossed  restlessly  over  to  the  other  side  and 
looked  out  at  the  bright  sunshine.  A  pair  of  snow- 
white  pigeons  alighted  on  the  window  ledge  near  and 
cooed  softly. 

"I  just  hate  to  sew,"  Lu  continued  so  fiercely  that 
the  gentle-voiced  birds  looked  up,  startled.  "I  get  so 
fidgety.  I've  always  vowed  I'd  never  do  it.  I  feel, 
after  I've  sewed  a  few  days,  like  I  wanted  to  fly 
away.  If  I  could  cook,  or  do  something  like  that,  I 
wouldn't  mind  it  so  much." 

The  pair  on  the  ledge  tilted  their  heads  to  one 
side  and  eyed  her  with  quiet  concern. 

"Mother  never  would  have  broken  down  so  quickly 
if  Janey  hadn't  gone  so  far  away,"  she  soliloquized, 
"I've  watched  her  ever  since,  and  I  know  she's  griev- 
ing, though  she'd  never  own  it  in  the  world,  and  she's 
growing  thinner  and  paler  every  day.  It's  been  a 
hard  task  for  mother  to  raise  her  little  brood  of  bird- 
lings  all  alone,  but  it's  harder  yet  for  her  to  see  them 
flying  off  out  into  the  big  world  and  leaving  her 
alone.  It's  taking  the  courage  and  life  out  of  her  a 
good  deal  faster  than  it  did  to  plan  and  scheme  how 
to  fill  the  hungry  mouths  when  we  were  all  in  the 
home  nest.  What  a  dear,  patient  mother  she  has 
been,  and  what  a  restless,  impatient  little  bunch  we 
were — (that  is,  I  have  been)  to  try  our  wings.  Well, 


314  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

one  of  us,  at  least,  has  surely  taken  a  long  enough 
flight,  and  it  will  be  many  a  day  before  she  migrates 
back  to  the  home  nest.  Who'd  have  dreamed  two  or 
three  years  ago  that  so  much  could  happen  in  such 
a  short  space  of  time  and  we'd  be  so  widely  separated 
now?  Oh,  I  know  the  home  can't  ever  be  the  same 
again — that's  the  hard  part.  School's  the  only  place 
that  seems  as  it  used  to,  and  now  to  have  to  leave  all 
the  girls  and  boys  of  our  class  in  the  senior  year — " 

Down  she  flopped  in  the  hay  again  and  turned  her 
face  away  from  the  bright  outdoor  world.  "I  just 
can't  do  it — I  know  I  can't.  I'm  too  selfish.  I'll 
write  to  Ned  to-morrow — yes,  I  will,"  she  declared 
still  more  fiercely.  "It  won't  hurt  him  so  badly  to 
lose  the  remainder  of  this  year,  and  then  I'll  stay  at 
home  the  rest  of  my  life,  if  necessary,  but  I  won't 
do  it  this  year,  so  there !" 

Silence  profound  again  in  the  haymow — a  long 
continued  one  this  time.  The  sparrows  outside 
twittered  more  noisily  than  ever;  the  white  pigeons 
had  flown  away  from  the  window  ledge  into  the 
garden. 

Suddenly  from  out  the  stillness  of  the  golden  after- 
noon there  came  floating  up  to  the  haymow  from 
somewhere  below,  the  clear,  sweet  notes  of  Made- 
line's voice,  whose  tones  still  held  that  childlike  sim- 
plicity and  quality  that  betokened  her  innocent  and 
trusting  nature: 

"  'It  may  not  be  on  the  mountain's  height, 
Or  over  the  stormy  sea; 


ONLY   A    PLODDER  315 

It  may  not  be  at  the  battle's  front, 

My  Lord  will  have  need  of  me; 
But  if  by  a  still,  small  voice  he  calls 

To  paths  that  I  may  not  know, 
I'll  answer,  dear  Lord,  with  my  hand  in  thine, 

I'll  go  where  you  want  me  to  go. 

"  'I'll  go  where  you  want  me  to  go,  dear  Lord, 

Over  mountain,  or  plain,  or  sea; 
I'll  stay  where  you  want  me  to  stay,  dear  Lord, 
I'll  be  what  you  want  me  to  be.' " 

Lu  sat  suddenly  and  stiffly  erect.  How  strangely 
Madeline  had  paraphrased  the  last  words  of  the 
chorus  to  harmonize  with  her  situation ! 

"  'It  may  not  be  at  the  battle's  front/  "  she  re- 
peated, "  'my  Lord  will  have  need  of  me/  I  guess 
the  Lord  called  Robert  and  Janey  to  go  'over  moun- 
tain height  and  stormy  sea'  all  right,  and  I  wonder  if 
he  truly  wants  me  to  take  this  path  that  I  don't  want 
to  take.  Strikes  me  it's  a  mighty  humdrum  way, 
but  I  suppose  if  the  Lord  wants  me  there  I  ought  to 
'stay  where  he  wants  me  to  stay,  as  Madeline  sings 
it,  and  not  make  any  fuss  about  it.  Well — " 

There  was  a  long  pause,  then  slowly  great  burn- 
ing, smarting  tears  welled  up  in  the  girl's  eyes  and 
rolled  over  her  cheeks.  "I  guess  the  Lord  thinks  I 
can't  do  anything  that  amounts  to  much  anyhow, 
and  I  might  as  well  do  this.  He  knows  I  haven't  any 
special  gifts  or  talents,  and  he  thinks  it  doesn't  make 
any  difference  whether  I  finish  school  or  not.  I'll 
never  have  any  accomplishments  like  Janey,  nor  be 
able  to  sing  like  Madeline,  nor  be  sweet  and  ladylike 


316  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

like  either,  and  I'm  not  so  smart  and  quick  as  Ned. 
I  think  the  good  gifts  must  all  have  been  boxed  up 
somewhere  and  the  cover  nailed  down  tight,  when  I 
was  made,  or  else  all  on  hand  had  been  distributed. 
Anyhow,  my  work  and  place  don't  seem  to  be  very 
important." 

From  the  farther  corner  of  the  garden,  whither 
Madeline  had  gone  in  search  of  the  willful  Cleo- 
patra's nest,  the  strains  of  another  stanza  came  now 
less  distinctly: 

"  There's  surely  somewhere,  a  lowly  place 

In  earth's  harvest  field  so  wide, 
Where  I  may  labor  through  life's  short  day 

For  Jesus,  the   Crucified; 
So  trusting  my  all  to  thy  tender  care, 

And  knowing  thou  lovest  me, 
I'll  do  thy  will  with  a  heart  sincere, 
I'll  be  what  you  want  me  to  be. 

"  'I'll  go  where  you  want  me  to  go,  dear  Lord, 

Over  mountain  or  plain  or  sea, 
I'll  stay  where  you  want  me  to  stay — '  " 

The  voice  drifted  off  in  the  distance  and  ceased 
altogether  as  the  younger  sister  discovered  the  ob- 
ject of  her  search  under  a  clump  of  frosted  and 
blackened  tomato  vines,  and  Lu  was  again  left  un- 
disturbed in  her  meditations. 

The  sun  had  descended  an  hour  lower  in  the 
western  sky,  and  the  hazy  veil  was  hanging  heavier 
about  the  hills,  when  at  last  the  girl  picked  herself 
up  out  of  the  hollow  she  had  made  in  the  hay, 
brushed  away  the  wisps  and  dead  leaves  that  clung 


ONLY   A    PLODDER  317 

to  her  old,  soft  cotton  dress,  and  slowly  descended 
the  ladder  to  the  ground.  Equally  as  slow,  and  still 
meditatively,  with  head  bent  low  and  gaze  fixed  upon 
the  ground,  she  started  back  toward  the  house. 

"Hello,  there!  What  absorbing  cogitations  make 
you  so  heedless  of  consequences  as  to  almost  run 
over  a  fellow  like  that?"  And  Lu  looked  up  with  a 
start  to  see  Billy  dodging  with  mock  concern  out  of 
her  pathway. 

"Goodness !  How  you  scared  me !  Why  didn't  you 
tell  me  you  were  there?" 

"I  did — just  in  time  to  save  myself.  Christopher 
Columbus!  Lu,  where  have  you  been?"  he  ejacu- 
lated, stepping  back  again  and  plucking  a  long  weed 
and  several  spears  of  dry  grass  from  her  hair.  "You 
look  like  you'd  been  through  a  threshing  machine 
and  escaped  with  considerable  of  the  chaff  left." 

"I  have.  Couldn't  be  otherwise  when  it  was  mostly 
chaff  to  begin  with,"  Lu  answered,  with  an  uncom- 
fortable knowledge  of  her  red,  tear-stained  eyes, 
soiled  dress,  and  disheveled  locks,  and  fervently  wish- 
ing the  young  man  were  out  of  the  State  or  any- 
where else  but  standing  there  blocking  her  pathway. 
Besides,  he  was  looking  at  her  in  a  quizzical,  half- 
amused,  half-serious  way  that  was  a  trifle  discon- 
certing. 

"What  are  you  doing  here  this  time  of  day?  Why 
aren't  you  at  the  bank  at  work  ?" 

"If  you  please,  Miss  Lu,"  said  Billy,  with  a  low 
bow,  "my  day's  work  at  the  bank  has  been  completed 
after  the  most  approved  business  methods.  Aren't 


318  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

you  aware  that  it  is  Saturday  afternoon  and  past 
four  o'clock,  after  which  I  am  a  gentleman  of  lei- 
sure ?  You  are  not  a  bit  polite  when  I  come  to  make 
a  call.  Why  don't  you  say  you're  glad  I  came,  and 
invite  me  to  stay  to  supper,  instead  of  asking  why 
I  am  not  at  work?" 

"Why,  I  didn't  know  it  was  so  late,  but  how  can 
I  when  you  stand  right  in  my  way ;  besides, 

"Any  vagrant  that  comes  begging 
For  a  bite  at  the  kitchen  door, 
Is  not  allowed  to  enter 

And  mar  a  fresh-scrubbed  floor." 

"Zounds !  Lu,  you're  a  most  extemporaneous  poet. 
Why  don't  you  cultivate  the  muse  more  often?" 

"Too  elusive.  Anyhow,  I've  learned  that  great  gifts 
are  not  for  me.  Let  the  gifted  sing  and  write  and 
paint ;  I'm  only  a  plodder,"  Lu  said,  stepping  to  one 
side  and  making  a  circuit  past  him,  and  walking 
steadily  up  the  path  with  shoulders  erect  and  head 
carried  high.  He  turned  and  followed  her,  still 
amused,  yet  secretly  wondering  at  her  mood. 

"When  did  you  find  that  out?" 

"Just  this  afternoon  out  in  the  haymow,  where 
I've  been  summing  up  my  stock  of  gifts.  It  was  easy 
to  come  to  the  conclusion." 

"Hum-m !"  Billy  mused  thoughtfully.  "I  hope  you 
won't  take  such  an  inventory  of  the  qualities  of  your 
friends,  unless  you  are  more  charitable." 

"Oh,  I  took  yours  long  ago,"  retorted  the  girl, 
quickly. 


ONLY   A    PLODDER  319 

Billy  laughed,  in  sudden  recollection.  "Why,  so 
you  did,  Lu.  I  recall  it  vividly.  The  very  first  time 
I  ever  saw  you.  Whew!  but  I  suffered  under  your 
scathing  criticisms  then.  Haven't  you  revised  your 
estimate  of  accounts  and  placed  more  to  my  credit 
since  that  time?  Honest,  now?" 

"I  daren't  say.  Some  people  can't  stand  flattery, 
or  even  well  deserved  commendation." 

"Well,  then,  how  stands  the  cooky  jar?  A  dozen 
cookies  will  answer  the  purpose  quite  as  well,  and 
I'll  forgive  all  the  cold,  hard,  impolite  things  you  say, 
and  even  a  tramp  may  venture  on  to  a  clean-scrubbed 
floor  if  he's  just  had  his  shoes  polished,"  the  young 
man  replied  good-humoredly,  holding  the  screen  door 
open  for  her  and  following  serenely  in. 

' 'There  isn't  a  cooky  left,  if  that's  what  you're 
hunting,"  said  Madeline,  coming  in  the  opposite  door 
at  that  moment  and  overhearing  his  last  remarks. 
"I  ate  the  last  one  yesterday,  and  you  promised  me 
faithfully  this  morning,  Lu,  to  make  some  dough- 
nuts, and  you  haven't  done  it." 

"Why,  st)  I  did,  little  sister,"  said  Lu,  regretfully. 
"I  forgot  all  about  it.  What  a  pity,  and  you  two 
youngsters  so  nearly  starving,  too !  Never  mind,  I'll 
have  time  to  make  them  yet  before  supper." 

"I'll  help  you,  if  you'll  let  me,"  said  Madeline.  "I 
just  love  to  help  make  doughnuts." 

"Can't  I  help,  too?"  asked  Billy. 

"Sure,  you  can  both  help.  There's  a  big  apron 
behind  the  door,  and,  Madeline,  you  may  get  the  eggs 
and  milk  from  the  cellar.  I'll  be  back  in  a  moment," 


320  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

and  Lu  disappeared  up  the  stairway  on  the  way  to 
her  room,  where  she  hurriedly  dashed  her  face  and 
eyes  with  cold  water,  hastily  smoothed  her  hair,  and 
slipped  out  of  the  old  brown  dress  she  wore  only 
when  doing  the  cleaning,  into  a  fresh  gingham.  When 
she  returned  to  the  kitchen,  Billy,  the  big  checked 
apron  fastened  around  him,  was  seated  on  the  high 
kitchen  stool,  industriously  wielding  the  egg  beater, 
while  Madeline  was  fluttering  about  the  kitchen 
stove,  fixing  the  fire  and  putting  the  lard  to  melt  in 
the  kettle. 

"Let  me  turn  'em,"  said  Billy  a  little  later,  as  he 
stood  watching  with  the  greatest  interest  while  Lu 
dropped  the  circles  of  dough  into  the  hot  grease. 
"It's  fun  to  see  'em  puff  up,  and  a  fellow  gets  the 
first  chance  at  them  that  way." 

"No,  that's  my  job,"  said  Madeline.  "Lu  always 
lets  me  do  that." 

"Here,  take  a  fork,  each  of  you,"  said  Lu,  ju- 
diciously, "and  turn  them  over  and  lift  them  from  the 
kettle.  Now  don't  get  in  such  a  hurry  that  you  take 
them  out  before  they  are  fully  done,"  she  admon- 
ished. 

"Aren't  they  beauties?"  said  Billy,  admiringly, 
peering  into  the  kettle  and  jealously  guarding  one 
which  looked  especially  tempting. 

"This  one's  mine,"  said  Madeline,  mischievously. 
"Don't  you  dare  take  it,  Billy  Gibson.  Ladies  should 
be  served  first." 

"Ouch!  This  one's  hot!  How  long  does  it  take 
'em  to  cool,  Lu?"  Billy  asked,  having  fished  one  out, 


ONLY   A    PLODDER  321 

and  leaving  the  remainder  to  Madeline's  care,  was 
proceeding  to  dispose  of  it  at  once. 

"A  trifle  longer  than  it  takes  by  such  rapid  trans- 
portation to  get  it  from  the  kettle  to  your  mouth,  I 
should  suppose,"  she  replied,  with  calm  unconcern, 
watching  his  gyrations  about  the  room.  "I'd  advise 
you  to  wait  at  least  ten  seconds,"  she  added,  dryly. 
"You'd  enjoy  it  more." 

"Lu,  you  are  positively  inconsistent,"  remarked 
Billy,  "to  make  doughnuts  like  these  and  then  ex- 
pect a  fellow  to  let  them  alone  till  they  get  cold. 
These  are  the  most  delicious,  delectable  things  in  the 
shape  of  circles  I  ever  ate.  I  wish  you  could  have 
tasted  one  like  I  had  at  the  restaurant  last  night. 
A  city-imported  product  made  out  of  leather  and 
axlegrease,  judging  from  its  consistency  and  flavor. 
You'd  make  a  small  fortune  if  you'd  put  your  dough- 
nuts and  cookies  on  the  market,  besides  doing  a 
charitable  act  for  the  people  who  have  to  subsist  on 
bakery  stuff." 

Lu,  who  had  been  giving  little  heed  to  his  effusion, 
at  his  last  sentence  now  looked  up  with  sudden  in- 
terest from  the  dough  she  was  molding  at  the  board. 

"Why,  so  I  might,"  she  agreed.  "That's  quite  an 
idea,  Billy.  It  takes  a  financier  to  figure  some  things 
out,  I  see." 

"Now  there's  Thanksgiving  coming  on  next 
week — " 

"Why,  so  it  is,"  she  acquiesced,  laying  the  piece 
VS— 21 


322  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

of  dough  down  on  the  board  and  forgetting  to  roll 
it  out. 

"And  think  of  the  many  people,"  he  continued, 
"that  would  like  to  get  hold  of  doughnuts  like  these, 
to  say  nothing  of  good,  homemade  pumpkin  pies. 
There's  my  landlady,  for  instance,  can't  make  a  pie 
fit  for  a  cat  to  eat,  and  buys  most  of  her  stuff  ready 
made.  If  I  couldn't  get  to  the  cooky  jar  here  once  in 
awhile,  and  out  to  Aunt  Jane's  occasionally,  I'd  starve 
to  death." 

"Well,  you  act  like  you're  starved,  though  you 
don't  look  much  like  it,"  declared  Madeline,  frankly. 
"Now  this  next  one  belongs  to  me ;  you've  had  three 
already." 

Strangely  quiet  and  thoughtful  was  Lu  while  she 
finished  the  doughnuts  and  began  preparations  for 
supper.  Madeline  and  Billy  chatted  gayly  and  tried 
in  vain  to  arouse  her  from  her  preoccupation. 

After  supper  was  over  and  Billy  gone,  the  work  for 
the  day  completed,  and  Madeline  had  gone  across  the 
street  to  visit  with  one  of  her  friends,  in  the  quiet 
of  the  sitting  room,  with  no  light  save  the  flicker- 
ings  from  the  little  wood  stove,  Lu  drew  her  chair 
up  near  the  couch  where  her  mother  was  still  resting, 
and  had  a  long  and  serious  talk.  The  plans  she  un- 
folded you  may  be  sure  met  with  remonstrance  on 
the  part  of  the  mother;  a  remonstrance,  however, 
which  soon  gave  way  before  the  girl's  determined 
will  and  convincing  arguments. 

"You  know  you  must  not  continue  a  day  longer  as 


ONLY   A   PLODDER  323 

you  are  doing,"  she  said  in  conclusion.  "We  do  not 
want  to  call  Ned  home.  It  will  greatly  interfere  with 
his  work  and  plans  if  he  has  to  return  this  year. 
I'll  stay  out  this  winter  and  finish  next  year.  It  will 
be  with  another  class,  of  course,"  her  voice  faltered 
a  trifle,  "but  that  need  not  make  so  much  difference. 
Let  me  try  my  plan,  and  promise  me  you  won't  tell 
Ned  till  spring,  and  forbid  Madeline  mentioning  it 
either.  If  he  finds  out  what  I  am  doing  he'll  quit 
straight  off  and  come  home.  Will  you  promise, 
please,  mother  ?" 

And  the  mother,  realizing  her  own  waning 
strength,  and  her  inability  to  carry  longer  the  heavy 
responsibilities  she  had  borne  for  years,  promised. 


324  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

CHAPTER  31 

THE  NEW  BAKERY 


HOMEMADE  PUMPKIN  PIES 

DOUGHNUTS 
BROWN    BREAD— BAKED    BEANS 

COOKIES  and  SPICE  CAKE 
For  Your  Tfianksgiving  Dinner 

On  sale  at  the 

BROWN  COTTAGE 

Send  in  your  order  early 


SUCH  was  an  attractive  advertisement  which 
appeared  in  the  Banforth  News  the  following 
Monday  afternoon  and  brought  a  quick  and  en- 
couraging response.  Orders  began  to  come  almost 
before  the  paper  was  fairly  distributed,  and  by 
Wednesday  noon  they  had  reached  such  proportions 
as  to  keep  Lu  working  far  into  the  night  to  supply 
the  Thanksgiving  trade.  Her  reputation  as  a  cook 
was  well  known  among  all  the  young  people  of  the 
town  and  it  needed  little  else  to  bring  her  patronage. 
At  least  one  individual  was  thoroughly  astounded 
when  he  read  the  advertisement  that  first  evening. 
"Great  Csesar!"  he  exclaimed,  "What's  she  going  to 
do  that  for?  She  ought  not  to  quit  school  now.  Can 
they  be  in  need  ?  I  wonder  that  Ned  allows  it.  There 
must  be  something  the  matter." 


THE   NEW   BAKERY  325 

Down  went  the  paper  on  the  floor,  and  finding  his 
hat,  he  was  at  once  on  his  way  to  the  cottage.  He 
arrived  just  as  Lu  was  taking  her  first  order  over 
the  telephone. 

"Yes — five  dozen  doughnuts,  did  you  say,  Mrs. 
McGlee?  .  .  .  And  how  much  brown  bread?  .  .  . 
Oh,  yes — all  right.  I'll  have  it  for  you  by  Wednesday 
morning.  Thank  you.  Good-by." 

"Lu,  what  does  that  ad  in  the  paper  mean?"  Billy 
confronted  her  as  she  hung  up  the  receiver.  "Are 
you  going  to  quit  school  right  now,  within  an  inch  of 
graduating  ?" 

"It  looks  that  way,"  replied  the  girl,  steadily. 

"Are  you  crazy?" 

"Doubtless.  But  I'm  only  following  out  your  own 
suggestion." 

"My  suggestion !"  he  ejaculated,  trying  vainly  to 
remember  anything  he  had  said  approaching  such  a 
thought,  and  forgetful  of  the  episode  of  the  Satur- 
day before.  "My  suggestion !" 

""Truly,  you  are  largely  responsible  for  the  ven- 
ture." 

"How?  pray  inform." 

"Well,  being  of  a  charitable  turn  of  mind,  I've  de- 
cided to  try  to  make  pies  fit  for  the  cats,  and  keep 
hungry  boarders  from  starving,  and  likewise  ac- 
cumulate that  small  fortune  you  predicted  I  could. 
See,  I  have  an  order  already — five  dozen  doughnuts 
and  three  loaves  of  brown  bread.  How's  that  for  a 
start?"  And  Lu  held  up  the  slip  of  paper  on  which 
she  was  making  notes  when  he  came  in. 


326  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

"Lu,  you  must  not  do  it.  There's  no  sense  in  it," 
remonstrated  Billy. 

"But  I  must,  and  there  are  cents,  and  I  hope  dol- 
lars." 

"I  say  you  shan't,"  said  the  young  man,  authori- 
tatively. 

"But  I  shall,"  she  declared,  independently. 

"I'll  write  Ned  at  once  and  tell " 

"Indeed  you'll  not  do  anything  of  the  kind,"  Lu's 
eyes  flashed  fire;  "and  if  you  do,  Billy  Gibson,  I'll 
never  speak  another  word  to  you  nor  tell  you  another 
thing." 

"Now  listen,  Lu " 

"Now  listen,  Billy — mother's  not  able  to  sew  any 
longer.  She  is  simply  getting  weaker  every  day,  and 
I  can't  stand  it.  If  I  don't  quit  school  and  look  after 
her  and  make  the  living,  she'll  give  out.  Can't  you 
see  it?  Besides,  if  Ned  came  home  he  couldn't  take 
care  of  mother  as  I  can." 

Billy  stood  silent  for  a  moment.  "And  you  mean 
to  shoulder  the  entire  responsibility  of  doing  the 
housework  and  the  bread  winning  for  the  family?" 

"Perhaps.  Though  it  looks  more  like  bread  mak- 
ing than  bread  winning  to  me." 

"I'm  certainly  sorry  I  blundered  into  putting  such 
a  notion  into  your  head." 

"I'm  not.  If  you  hadn't  I'd  have  sewed  instead, 
and  I  detest  sewing." 

"What  do  you  think  Ned  and  Janey  would  say  if 
they  knew?" 

"Janey  couldn't  do  anything  to  help  if  she  did 


THE   NEW   BAKERY  327 

know,  and  it  would  only  worry  her.  I  don't  want  her 
to  know — and  please,  Billy,  promise  me  you  won't 
tell  Ned.  He  must  finish  another  year  at  Graceland 
first." 

"Let  me  help  you,  then.  I  can  easily  arrange  so 
that  your  mother  can  have  enough  money  till  school 
is  out,  without  interest  or  at  a  very  low  rate,  if  you 
insist  on  paying  something." 

Lu  shook  her  head  slowly.  "No,"  she  said  de- 
cisively, "I  don't  want  to  go  in  debt  now,  for  it  wor- 
ries mother  so.  We've  managed  to  get  along  so  far, 
and  I  think  we  can  make  it  through.  It  would  be  a 
couple  of  years  perhaps  before  I  could  pay  it  back, 
and  I'd  rather  not.  Besides,  I  feel  that  mother  needs 
some  one  right  at  home  with  her." 

Billy  was  not  convinced.  He  argued,  remon- 
strated, almost  scolded,  and  threatened  again  to  tell 
Ned  or  Janey,  but  Lu  was  firm  and  unyielding,  and 
the  result  was  she  had  her  way  and  it  ended,  as  had 
been  the  case  with  her  mother,  in  his  promise  not 
to  tell  Ned.  In  consequence  Lu  carried  out  her  plans 
and  supplied  a  goodly  portion  of  the  bounties  at  a 
number  of  Thanksgiving  feasts  in  Banforth  that 
year,  and  thereby  a  steady  patronage  was  assured. 
Ned's  friends  were  interviewed  and  requested  to 
keep  silent  about  the  matter  to  him.  Lu  wrote  Mamie 
at  once  of  her  venture,  asking  her  to  keep  it  a  secret, 
and  Ned  continued  his  studies  at  Graceland,  happily 
unaware  of  the  sacrifices  that  were  being  made  at 
home. 

So  the  little  kitchen  became  a  tiny  bakery,  where 


328  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

Lu  sang  as  she  kneaded  the  dough  and  made  puffy 
rolls  and  loaves,  or  stirred  spicy  mixtures  for  the 
cakes ;  and  the  sitting  room  was  turned  from  a  sew- 
ing room  into  a  sales  shop,  where  the  windows  daily 
displayed  tasty  brown  doughnuts,  crisp  cookies,  and 
tempting  pies. 

It  was  not  long  till  she  felt  assured  of  the  wisdom 
of  her  course.  Mrs.  Warren  was  failing  even  faster 
than  anyone  had  realized,  and  rest  and  freedom  from 
responsibility  failed  to  bring  about  the  speedy  re- 
sults Lu  had  hoped  for.  Many  a  winter's  morning  in 
the  intervals  of  respite  from  her  work,  the  girl 
stepped  softly  to  the  bedroom  door  and  peered  anx- 
iously in  where  her  mother  lay  on  the  couch  in  that 
exhausted  slumber  which  betokens  a  weakened  and 
overtaxed  heart.  As  softly  she  would  go  away  again 
with  an  inward  pang  at  the  whiteness  of  her  face, 
but  with  a  thankfulness  that  she  was  able  in  a  great 
measure*to  lift  and  carry  the  burdens  those  shoulders 
had  borne  so  long.  Many  a  night  she  cuddled  and 
kissed  that  mother  good-night  and  wondered  how 
long  she  would  be  permitted  to  treasure  and  keep  her. 


COMMENCEMENT   DAY  329 

CHAPTER  32 

COMMENCEMENT  DAY 

WILL  the  spring  never  come,  Lu?    I  am  so 
tired  of  waiting  for  the  winter  to  be  over. 
Are  the  violets  almost  ready  to  bloom  on 
the  hillside  and  on  the  little  graves  of  my  babies  in 
the  old  cemetery?" 

"Not  yet,  mother  dear;  but  they  will  be  soon.  It 
will  not  be  so  very  long  now,"  Lu  answered  her 
mother  many  times  that  spring,  even  before  the  keen 
March  winds  had  given  place  to  April's  softer  breath. 
"It  is  only  a  few  weeks  until  May  time  and  the 
johnny- jump-ups  will  be  popping  up  everywhere,  and 
jack-in-the-pulpit  will  be  on  hand  ready  to  deliver  his 
first  lecture,  and  you  know  Madeline  will  discover  the 
very  first  blossom  that  dares  to  jump  out  of  its  warm 
bed.  She  never  fails  to  find  the  earliest." 

"I  know  she  will.  But  the  weeks  seem  long,  and 
yet  I  know  they  are  passing  quickly,  too,  even  as  the 
years  have  passed  since  my  first  babies  were  laid 
away  under  the  violets.  It  will  soon  be  twenty-four 
years  Lu,  since  your  father  and  I  buried  the  twin 
baby  brother  and  sister  that  came  before  Janey  was 
born.  Our  first  babies,  and  they  lived  scarcely  two 
years.  How  lonely  it  was  after  their  death  until 
Janey  came  to  take  their  place  in  our  hearts — no,  not 
their  place,  but  a  place  of  her  own.  What  sunshine 


330  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

she  brought  into  our  home  then,  that  had  been  bereft 
of  baby  voices  so  long !  What  sunshine  each  one  of 
you  brought  as  you  came,  one  by  one!  You  were 
such  good  children  and  you  healed  the  ache  in  our 
hearts.  How  your  father  loved  his  little  family  and 
how  proud  of  you  he  would  have  been  to-day  had  he 
lived !  Somewhere  in  the  West  among  the  mountains, 
where  he  was  prospecting,  doubtless  his  body  still 
lies  buried  under  a  great  avalanche  of  snow  and 
debris.  They  could  never  find  it  to  bring  it  home.  I 
dreamed  of  him  last  night.  He  looked  very  happy, 
and  his  voice  had  that  same  old-time  ring  of  cheeri- 
ness  that  won  him  many  friendships  and  made  bright 
the  home.  You  are  like  him,  Lu,  full  of  that  same 
hope  and  cheerfulness,  yet  impulsive  and  quick  and 
high-spirited.  How  he  used  to  laugh  at  your  quaint, 
old-fashioned  ways,  as  when  such  a  tiny  girl  you  in- 
sisted on  helping  me  about  the  house,  or  trying  to 
mother  Baby  Madeline.  You  were  a  domestic  little 
thing  from  very  babyhood,  Lu." 

Lu  laughed  with  an  odd  feeling  in  her  throat.  "So 
I  was,  mother.  It  has  been  my  only  qualification.  I 
don't  seem  to  amount  to  much  in  other  ways." 

"Hush,  child.  You  don't  know  what  you  are  say- 
ing. Your  gifts  are  undeveloped  yet,  and  you  have 
filled  a  place  in  the  home  no  one  else  could  fill.  You 
have  grown  so  kind  and  patient,  and  for  your  restless 
nature  it  is  hard ;  but  I  don't  know  what  I  should  do 
without  my  faithful  girl.  My  girls  and  my  boy  have 
always  been  good  to  me.  I  wonder  how  long  it  will 
be  until  we  hear  from  my  far-away  girl  again." 


'COMMENCEMENT   DAY  831 

"On  the  next  steamer,  mother.  It  will  not  be  long 
until  the  next  steamer  will  arrive  with  her  letters." 

"She  has  been  gone  a  long  time." 

"Almost  two  years,  mother  dear.  It  will  be  two 
years  this  June." 

"And  three  years  yet  till  she  comes  home." 

"Yes,  but  the  time  is  passing  more  quickly  than  I 
could  ever  have  thought  it  possible,  and  first  thing  we 
know  it  will  have  slipped  away  and  Janey  and  Robert 
will  be  home  and  we  shall  all  be  together  again,"  Lu 
said,  cheerily. 

The  mother  was  silent  for  a  little  while  and  the 
conversation  ended  as  usual,  by  her  asking : 

"Sing  to  me,  Lu.  I  am  very  tired  this  evening. 
Will  you  sing  the  hymns  and  songs  again  which  I 
have  learned  to  love?  Sing  to  me  and  I  shall  wait 
for  the  violets  to  come,  and  think  of  the  time  when 
Janey  will  be  home  again." 

And  so  in  the  twilight,  the  day's  work  done,  the 
little  round  of  homely  tasks  finished,  Lu  sang  the  old 
hymns  to  her  mother  until  twilight  brooded  into 
darkness,  the  hour  for  rest  and  sleep  came  again  to 
the  household,  and  anxiety  was  for  a  time  forgotten. 

But  no  one,  not  even  Lu,  suspected  how  close  the 
mother  was  approaching  the  brink,  and  how  faint 
the  spark  of  life  was  glowing.  Once,  in  the  early 
spring,  Lu  saw  indications  of  weakness  that  alarmed 
her.  At  this  time  she  wrote  to  Janey  and  Ned  more 
fully  of  conditions  as  they  were,  and  had  added  a 
postscript  in  the  latter  message  not  to  be  surprised 
if  she  sent  for  him  to  come  home  at  any  time. 


332  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

The  violets  bloomed  at  last  on  the  hillsides  and  on 
the  little  graves,  and  deep  in  woodsy  places  they 
lifted  their  bright  faces  in  a  message  of  hope  and 
comfort.  With  their  coming  also  came  a  letter  from 
Robert,  telling  of  a  dark-eyed  baby  girl  that  had 
come  to  their  island  home.  That  day  was  turned 
into  a  day  of  festivity  and  celebration  at  the  brown 
cottage,  and  the  happy  event  served  to  arouse  Mrs. 
Warren  from  her  lethargy,  for  a  tune  to  give  her 
new  interest  and  hope  in  life,  and  to  stir  her  into 
activity.  She  wrote  long  letters  to  Janey  and  Robert 
and  Ned,  and  even  to  Mrs.  Clayton  and  Mamie.  She 
left  her  couch  and  walked  out  into  the  warm  sun- 
shine and  watched  with  something  of  her  old  in- 
terest the  growing  things  in  garden  and  flower  beds. 
Occasionally  she  essayed  to  assist  Lu  with  some  of 
the  lighter  household  tasks. 

With  the  lessening  of  anxiety  concerning  her 
mother,  Lu's  thoughts  turned  again  to  happenings 
about  her,  among  the  young  people,  and  to  her  own 
interests.  Something  of  the  old  pangs  came  back  as 
she  watched  her  classmates  passing  daily  or  caught 
bits  of  gay  news  of  their  parties  and  activities.  Now 
and  then  one  or  another  dropped  in  to  tell  her  of  a 
picnic  or  ride  or  game,  of  their  rivalry  with  the 
juniors,  to  ask  her  opinion  concerning  the  class  pin 
they  had  selected  or  to  tell  about  the  graduating 
dresses,  and  plans  for  commencement.  Regrets 
would  come  in  spite  of  herself.  She  was  heartily 
ashamed  of  the  fact  that  she  sometimes  harbored  a 
little  rebellion,  but  all  these  bright,  happy  things 


COMMENCEMENT   DAY  333 

were  a  part  of  the  life  she  loved  and  had  so  greatly 
missed  during  the  last  year.  As  the  time  drew 
nearer  and  nearer  towards  the  closing  of  school,  her 
restlessness  increased,  and  it  became  more  difficult 
to  patiently  continue  the  monotonous  round  of  little 
duties  that  always  seemed  clamoring  to  be  done. 

"You  will  be  sure  to  come  over  to-night,  will  you 
not?"  Dora  Drake  asked  as  the  afternoon  before 
commencement  she  stopped  in  at  the  brown  cottage 
to  see  Lu  for  a  moment  and  to  get  more  roses  for  the 
decorations.  "I  am  to  get  your  certain,  sure  promise. 
The  class  want  you  to  sit  on  the  platform  with  them. 
We  insist  on  it,  dear,  and  all  the  teachers  say  so,  too." 

"I  wouldn't  want  to  do  that,  Dora.  It  wouldn't 
seem  quite  right  for  me  to  sit  on  the  platform  with 
you.  I  haven't  earned  that  privilege  yet,  and  I 
wouldn't  want  the  place  until  I  deserved  it.  Besides, 
I  have  no  new  dress  to  wear,  and  among  all  you 
pretty  white  butterflies,  so  newly  garbed,  I'd  look 
like  an  ugly  miller  buzzing  around  the  light  and  get 
my  wings  scorched,  possibly.  But  I'll  come,"  she 
added  quickly,  as  she  saw  the  look  of  disappoint- 
ment on  her  friend's  face.  "Sarah's  mother  has 
promised  to  come  over  and  stay  with  mother  while  I 
go,  and  if  she  is  well  enough  I'll  be  there." 

Things  went  well  that  afternoon,  and  it  was  with 
a  little  flutter  of  excitement  that  Lu,  at  an  early 
hour,  slipped  into  her  old  white  dress  which  had  been 
washed  and  ironed  that  week  with  the  most  pains- 
taking care,  fastened  a  white  rose  in  her  hair,  and 


334  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

came  down  to  the  sitting  room  to  wait  with  her 
mother  until  Mrs.  McEllman  should  come. 

"You  look  very  sweet  this  evening,  Lu,"  her 
mother  looked  up  wistfully  from  the  couch  as  the 
girl  entered.  "I  am  so  sorry  that  you  have  had  to 
stay  home  all  the  year  and  cannot  be  with  the 
others  to-night.  God  will  reward  you,  dear,  for 
mother  never  could  have  gotten  along  without  you. 
You  will  be  glad  some  day  you  did  it." 

"I  am  glad  now,  mother.  I  am  glad  that  I  could 
help  you,"  Lu  answered,  bending  low  over  her  and 
patting  the  thin  cheek.  "And  I  don't  mind  it  so  very 
much — not  like  I  thought.  And  you're  looking  lots 
stronger,  and  with  more  color  in  your  face.  When 
Ned  comes  home  and  wakens  things  up  with  his 
cheery  whistle,  you'll  be  better." 

"Yes,  I  feel  I  shall  be  better — soon.  Will  you  have 
time  to  sing,  Lu,  before  you  go?  Just  one  song — 
one  I  love  best — 'I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth.' ' 

Obediently  Lu  sat  down  at  the  old  piano.  Outside 
the  steady  hum  of  insect  life  broke  the  stillness  of  the 
evening.  The  air  which  stirred  the  white  curtain 
and  rustled  the  leaves  of  the  crimson  rambler,  grow- 
ing close  by  the  south  window,  was  laden  with  the 
fragrance  of  roses  and  June  flowers.  Through  the 
little  west  window  the  long  rays  of  the  low-descend- 
ing sun  shone  with  soft  radiance  and  touched  caress- 
ingly the  worn  features  of  the  invalid  as  she  lay 
listening  in  quiet  content.  Softly  Lu  began,  then 
strong  and  clear  her  tones  swelled  out  on  the 


COMMENCEMENT   DAY  335 

chorus.    Again  softly,  sweetly,  full  of  assurance  and 
faith,  came  the  words  of  the  second  verse : 
"  'I  know  His  promise  never  f  aileth, 

The  word  He  speaks,  it  cannot  die; 
Though  cruel  death  my  flesh  assaileth, 
Yet  I  shall  see  Him  by  and  by.' " 

Restf ully  the  mother's  eyes  closed  in  sleep,  rever- 
ently now  the  sunbeams  kissed  her  cheek,  a  smile 
broke  over  her  white  features,  a  quiet  peace  pervaded 
the  room.  And  wrapped  in  that  peace  Lu  sang  on: 

"  'I  know  His  promise  never  faileth, 

That  where  He  is  there  I  may  be; 

O  wondrous  thought,  for  me  He  careth, 

And  He  at  last  will  come  for  me. 

"  'I  know,  I  know  that  Jesus  liveth, 
And  on "  ' 

An  exclamation  from  the  doorway,  a  quick  step 
on  the  floor,  brought  the  song  to  a  sudden  stop,  and 
Lu  whirled  about  on  the  stool  to  see  Billy  striding 
across  the  room  towards  her  mother's  couch,  a 
startled  look  on  his  face.  Her  eyes  followed  the  di- 
rection of  his  and  she  sprang  up  with  a  sharp  cry. 

Billy  stopped  and  placed  his  hand  upon  her  arm. 
"Bring  me  a  glass  of  water  quickly,"  he  said.  The 
steadiness  of  his  tone  and  manner  calmed  her  and 
she  obeyed  him  without  a  word.  Returning,  they 
worked  together  silently  over  the  still  form.  In  a 
moment  more  Mrs.  McEllman  entered,  and  the  doc- 
tor was  sent  for.  But  the  silent  messenger  had 
come  and  as  silently  borne  the  gentle  mother  spirit 
away. 

In  a  little  while,  at  a  signal  from  Mrs.  McEllman, 


336  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

Billy  ceased  his  efforts,  and  turning  to  the  girl,  with 
gentle  insistence  took  her  from  the  room. 

"It  'is  all  over,  Lu,"  he  said,  compassionately. 
"There  is  nothing  more  we  can  do  now.  You  may 
depend  on  me  for  anything  you  wish  done.  Leave 
it  all  to  me." 

In  the  trying  hours  that  followed  Lu  wondered 
more  than  once  what  she  would  have  done  without 
his  constant  help.  It  was  Billy  alone  who  was  able 
to  quiet  the  little  sister  when  she  was  brought  home 
from  the  church  where  she  had  been  helping  decorate 
it  for  the  evening.  It  was  he  who  sent  the  telegram 
to  Ned  which  brought  him  and  Mrs.  Clayton  and 
Mamie  hurrying  home  the  following  day  by  the  first 
train.  It  was  he  who  looked  after  the  hundred  and 
one  things  that  need  attention  at  such  a  time,  and 
nothing  was  forgotten  or  left  undone.  It  was  he, 
also,  after  all  had  been  done  that  could  be  for  the 
day,  who  went  back  with  Lu  into  that  quiet  room  to 
look  again  upon  the  still  face.  As  they  stood  looking 
down  at  the  peace  written  there,  faintly  from  across 
the  way  came  the  strains  of  the  closing  chorus  of  the 
exercises  at  the  church. 

Lu  looked  up  then  into  the  strong  face,  so  full  of 
feeling,  near  her. 

"And  this  was  to  have  been  my  commencement 
day,"  she  murmured  brokenly. 

"Instead,  it  is  commencement  day  for  your  mother 
in  paradise,"  he  answered  assuringly.  "Think  what 
it  means  to  her,  and  try  to  be  brave  and  glad  for 
her  sake." 


"The  evening  after  their  departure  Ned  and  Lu  sat  down 
to  their  lonely  supper  table  to  make  a  pretense  of  eating." 
(See  page  348.) 


THE    PATH    OF   HIS    CHOOSING  337 


CHAPTER  33 
THE  PATH  OF  HIS  CHOOSING 

"My  Master's  work  would  not  be  done 

Should  my  hand  slack,  or  fail  my  feet 
Love's  call  to  heed,  his  errands  run; 

Or  should  I  halt  with  message  sweet 
To  hungering  hearts  and  souls  downcast, 

Their  wounds  to  stanch,  their  ills  to  mend, 
Nor  drop  Love's  blessings  sure  and  fast 

And  be  to  them  who  need,  a  friend." 

NED  and  Lu,  with  Billy's  sanction,  had  decided 
it  would  not  be  wise  to  send  a  cablegram  of 
the  news  of  their  mother's  death  to  Janey  and 
Robert,  since  they  had  little  means  with  which  to 
send  any  word  beyond  the  mere  statement,  and  un- 
accompanied with  some  of  the  particulars  would  be 
more  of  a  shock  and  cause  for  continued  anxiety  than 
otherwise.  So  Lu  wrote  the  full  account  in  a  long 
letter  to  them  the  day  following  the  funeral,  and 
weeks  later  in  their  far-away  tropical  island  home  a 
brave  little  missionary  heart  read  it,  amid  tears  and 
broken  sobs. 

"It  is  not  unexpected,  yet  it  has  come  sooner  than 
I  thought,"  she  said  at  last,  growing  calmer,  as 
Robert  gently  and  with  tender  words  sought  to  com- 
fort and  console  her.  "But  I  thought,  Robert,  when 
I  left,  that  I  never  should  see  my  mother  again.  I 
somehow  seemed  to  feel  when  I  kissed  her  good-by 
that  she  would  not  live  till  our  return." 

VS— 22 


338  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

"Yet  in  the  face  of  that  premonition  you  came 
without  faltering.  You  never  told  me  this  before, 
Janey." 

"No.  Why  should  I?  There  was  a  possibility  of 
my  being  mistaken  in  the  feeling,  and  it  was  not 
necessary  for  me  to  trouble  you  with  it  when  you 
were  carrying  so  many  responsibilities." 

He  smoothed  back  her  brown  hair  with  a  reverent 
caress.  "No  man,"  he  said  earnestly,  yet  a  trifle 
brokenly,  "was  ever  blessed  with  a  better,  truer  help- 
mate than  I.  You  always  carry  your  full  share  of 
the  burden  as  well  as  trying  to  help  lift  mine.  God 
knows,  Janey,  that  I  never  could  have  carried  on  the 
work  of  this  mission  field  without  you.  I  can  but 
marvel  at  your  faith  and  willing  sacrifice." 

She  shook  her  head  slowly  and  smiled  back  at  his 
tender  gaze. 

"But  you  have  always  smoothed  the  way  and  made 
it  easier  for  me,"  she  answered  softly,  "so  that  never 
for  a  moment  have  I  wished  to  turn  back;  though 
just  now,  I  should  like  to  be  back  home  for  a  little 
while  to  help  Lu  and  Ned  and  to  comfort  Madeline. 
She  will  be  heartbroken,  poor  child!  I  wonder," 
she  added,  thoughtfully,  "what  they  will  do  with  the 
home.  Lu  says  they  have  not  had  time  to  think  yet." 

"The  cottage  undoubtedly  needs  repairs  badly  by 
this  time,"  her  husband  answered,  "and  I  don't  see 
how  they  can  afford  to  keep  it  and  fix  it  up,  nor  do 
I  know  just  what  they  can  do  without  it." 

"Oh,  Robert,  I  do  hope  they  won't  want  to  sell  it. 
I  can't  bear  the  thought,  for  no  other  place  can  ever 


THE    PATH    OF    HIS    CHOOSING  339 

seem  the  same  to  me.  But  I  suppose  Lu  will  want 
to  begin  school  again,  and  Ned  go  back  to  Graceland, 
so  they  will  have  to  break  up  housekeeping.  Poor 
little  Madeline!  What  will  she  do?  Only  I  know 
Lu  will  do  everything  for  her  she  can." 

"If  I  only  had  the  money,"  Robert  said,  with  a 
compassionate  look  at  his  wife's  troubled  counte- 
nance, "I'd  send  word  at  once  that  I  would  purchase 
it,  and  then  the  girls  and  Ned  could  live  there  just 
the  same  as  they  have  always  done,  if  they  wished." 

"But  you  haven't,  and  there's  no  use  of  our  talking 
about  it,"  said  Janey.  "Never  mind,  Robert,  some 
way  will  be  provided  for  them  and  for  us  when  we 
get  back.  Our  work  for  the  present  is  here,  and  that 
which  we  cannot  do  we  must  trust  to  Him.  Surely 
the  Lord,  who  has  been  so  good  to  our  parents  and 
never  failed  them  in  all  they  went  through,  will  take 
care  of  us  and  our  loved  ones  in  every  time  of  need." 

"We  have  indeed  been  blessed  since  our  coming 
here,"  he  answered,  earnestly.  "How  many  times, 
Janey,  has  he  helped  us  out  of  our  difficulties !  How 
many  times  we  can  remember  when  he  has  mani- 
fested his  power  on  the  great  waters  for  our  sakes ! 
How  often  has  he  listened  to  our  prayers,  and  how 
the  people  have  been  blessed  through  our  humble 
efforts !  Janey,  dear,  a  long  time  ago  I  considered  it 
a  terrible  sacrifice,  as  you  know,  to  leave  other  things 
and  take  up  this  work.  I  considered  I  had  had  a 
pretty  hard  time  in  one  way  and  another.  I  rebelled, 
I  all  but  refused  to  accept  the  work  the  Master 
prompted  me  to  do.  When  I  finally  gave  up  the 


340  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

things  I  wanted  so  much,  it  seemed  to  me  they  were 
the  most  important  things  in  the  world.  To-day  I 
am  beginning  to  realize  that  all  which  I  thought  I 
had  lost  is  restored  to  me.  I  gave  up  my  boyish 
ambition  for  an  education,  but  I  have  since  found  the 
gospel  to  be  the  greatest  educator  in  the  world,  and 
there  can  be  no  teacher  like  the  Great  Teacher.  I 
don't  mean  to  say,  either,  that  one  shouldn't  get  all 
he  can  from  school  and  college.  I  think  one  should 
seek  learning  in  every  field  of  opportunity  that  is 
open  to  him;  but  if  that  particular  field  is  denied 
him,  and  he  but  wills  to  make  himself  a  student 
under  any  circumstances,  there  is  an  educational 
power  in  the  gospel  which  is  unsurpassed.  Never- 
theless, one  must  study,  and  continually  study,  if 
he  would  make  himself  'approved,  a  workman  that 
needeth  not  to  be  ashamed/  and  in  his  studies  and  re- 
search he  must  follow  the  leadings  and  promptings 
of  the  Spirit.  God's  ministers,  given  the  privilege 
of  receiving  the  highest  instruction  from  the  divine 
Teacher  himself,  ought  to  be  the  most  conscientious 
pupils,  the  most  thorough  students,  and  the  greatest 
living  examples  of  his  teachings.  In  so  far  as  we  fail 
in  this  we  are  living  beneath  our  privileges  and  op- 
portunities, and  no  minister  of  the  gospel,  having 
such  access  to  that  great  source  of  light  and  knowl- 
edge, need  ever  say  that  he  has  not  an  opportunity 
for  obtaining  knowledge." 

There  was  a  short  pause,  during  which  the  hus- 
band and  wife  sat  silently,  with  clasped  hands, 
watching  the  light  rippling  of  t^e  waves  of  the  lit- 


THE    PATH   OF   HIS    CHOOSING  341 

tie  lagoon  over  the  sands  at  their  feet;  then  the 
young  man  resumed : 

"To-day,  Janey,  I  am  glad  to  say,  that  save  for 
your  sake,  and  the  feeling  that  often  you  have  too 
many  hardships  to  bear,  I  have  no  regrets.  I  would 
not  go  back  and  choose  the  other  course  if  I  could, 
for  like  my  mother,  I  am  ready  to  declare  that  the 
gospel  is  the  most  wonderful,  and  most  marvelous 
thing  in  the  world;  and  I  feel  there  is  no  work  so 
important  for  anyone  as  the  work  to  which  He  calls ; 
no  path  so  pleasant  as  the  one  of  His  choosing." 

"I  count  it  even  so,"  she  responded,  steadily,  lift- 
ing her  eyes  to  meet  his.  "I  sense  more  fully  than 
ever  the  meaning  of  the  hymn  which  voices  the 
thought,  In  His  service  pain  is  pleasure,  with  His 
favor  loss  is  gain." 

And  so,  by  and  by,  when  the  first  shock  of  her 
grief  had  passed  away  and  the  calmness  of  resigna- 
tion had  come,  they  went  back  up  the  slope  to  the 
mission  house  with  hearts  still  set  to  do  his  will, 
with  souls  still  attuned  to  that  high  purpose,  "Love's 
call  to  heed,"  and  to  carry  their  "message  sweet  to 
hungering  hearts  and  souls  downcast." 

The  summer  was  one  of  unusual  events,  and 
changes  came  rapidly  to  the  families  with  which  we 
are  most  interested.  A  few  weeks  following  Mrs. 
Warren's  death  Billy  was  suddenly  called  home  by 
the  illness  of  his  mother,  and  though  she  was  some 
better  after  he  reached  home,  her  recovery  was  slow. 
Shortly  after  his  arrival,  Mr.  Gibson  fell  from  the 
barn  loft  down  the  ladder  and  badly  injured  his 


342  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

shoulder.  This  occurring  just  at  the  beginning  of 
harvest  and  promising  serious  complications,  the 
young  man  was  obliged  to  stay  and  look  after  the 
fields  and  superintend  the  work  of  the  big  ranch 
which  Nelse  was  not  yet  old  enough  to  take  charge 
of.  The  work  on  the  place  and  the  anxiety  in  the 
home  required  all  the  strength  of  his  vigorous  young 
manhood,  so  he  had  little  time  or  thought  for  other 
things. 

Elder  Clayton,  whose  mission  was  still  in  the  West, 
the  field  now  extending  through  Oregon  and  North- 
ern California,  was  writing  urgent  letters  to  his 
wife  and  daughter  to  come  out  and  spend  the  year 
with  him.  These  appeals  began  to  have  more  weight 
when  he  finally  wrote  a  hurried  note  to  Mamie,  tell- 
ing of  a  position  he  could  obtain  for  her  as  book- 
keeper and  stenographer  with  a  good  firm  in  one  of 
the  enterprising  western  cities ;  for  in  addition  to  the 
music  she  had  taken  in  Graceland  during  the  past 
two  years,  she  had  also  been  able  to  graduate  in 
the  commercial  course.  The  position  open,  he  told 
her,  was  with  good  pay,  and  at  such  reasonable  hours 
as  would  enable  her  to  continue  her  study  of  music 
in  the  evenings.  The  prospect  looked  inviting,  with 
a  change  of  climate,  new  scenes  in  the  garden  spot 
of  the  West,  and  the  opportunity  for  the  two  to  be 
with  the  husband  and  father  much  of  the  year. 

"I  believe  it  will  be  worth  our  while,  mamma,  even 
if  it  does  take  a  large  share  of  my  salary  for  the  year 
to  meet  our  expenses  going  out  and  returning," 
Mamie  declared  that  evening  as  they  discussed  it  pro 


THE    PATH    OF   HIS    CHOOSING  343 

and  con.  "It  will  be  such  a  good  chance  for  us  to  see 
a  little  bit  of  the  world,  and  then,  too,  papa's  not  as 
well  and  as  strong  as  he  used  to  be,  and  I  think  we 
ought  to  go  if  we  can,  for  his  sake.  He's  been  away 
from  home  for  many  years  and  he's  tired  of  it." 

They  were  not  long  in  making  a  decision,  but  it 
was  Ned  and  Lu  and  Madeline  who  received  the  tid- 
ings of  the  proposed  change  with  dismay. 

"You  just  must  not  go,"  Lu  declared,  vehemently. 
"Why,  we  can't  get  along  without  you." 

"And  you  won't  ever  come  back — a  year  is  just 
never  ending,"  sighed  Madeline,  giving  a  slight  cough 
and  leaning  a  very  pale  little  face  against  Mrs.  Clay- 
ton's arm.  "We  won't  have  no  mother  at  all  when 
you  go." 

Mrs.  Clayton  looked  down  with  tender  pity  at  the 
girl  and  pressed  her  close,  without  replying.  Ned 
gave  a  quick  glance  at  Mamie,  then  turned  suddenly 
on  his  heel  and  walked  away.  And  somehow  none 
of  them  had  the  heart  to  say  anything  more  about 
it  Just-  then.  However,  as  the  circumstances  de- 
veloped in  the  next  day  or  two,  their  opportunity  to 
go  and  final  decision  seemed  providential. 

Ned  found  work  for  the  summer  in  one  of  the 
stores  down  town.  The  hours  after  work  he  spent 
till  late  in  the  evening  repairing  the  cottage,  for  he 
and  Lu  had  decided  to  rent  it  that  fall  when  he  was 
ready  to  go  back  to  Graceland.  It  would  probably  be 
late  in  November  before  he  could  go,  and  Lu  and 
Madeline  would  then  stay  the  rest  of  the  winter  in 
the  home  of  Sam  and  Sarah  Gates,  where  Lu  would 


344  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

work  for  her  board,  and  the  rent  would  largely  pay 
for  Madeline's.  Lu  felt  sure  she  could  review  and 
finish  her  school  work,  and  get  her  credits  in  a  little 
more  than  one  semester,  thus  graduating  the  follow- 
ing spring. 

All  these  plans  were  suddenly  upset  in  a  most  un- 
expected way.  Madeline,  frail  from  babyhood,  had 
seemed  to  get  more  and  more  listless  during  the  past 
few  months.  Wrapped  in  anxiety  for  her  mother  as 
Lu  had  been,  she  had  failed  to  note  with  any  concern 
the  slight  cough  of  the  little  sister  which  had  begun 
in  the  winter  and  which  had  thus  far  defied  all  reme- 
dies. School  work  had  seemed  unusually  trying  on 
the  girl  during  the  spring,  and  with  the  sudden  shock 
of  her  mother's  death  she  began  to  rapidly  lose 
energy  and  vitality.  So  languidly  did  she  move  about 
that  Lu  became  alarmed;  the  cough,  too,  continued 
to  be  obstinate,  and  she  took  her  to  the  doctor  for 
examination.  The  result  of  Lu's  interview  with  him 
afterward  sent  her  home  with  a  white  face  and  a 
heart  full  of  fear. 

Leaving  Madeline  resting,  after  their  walk  home, 
in  the  hammock  under  the  cool  shadow  of  the  trees, 
Lu  searched  for  Ned  without  delay  and  found  him  in 
the  garden  hoeing  the  watermelons. 

"The  doctor  says  Madeline's  cough  is  not  to  be 
trifled  with,  Ned,"  she  said  abruptly,  and  going 
straight  to  the  point.  "And  he  thinks  it  is  neces- 
sary for  her  to  have  a  change  of  climate  right  away. 
You  know  that  time  she  had  pneumonia  the  winter 
Janey  was  in  Dakota?  It  seems  it  left  her  lungs 


THE    PATH    OF    HIS    CHOOSING  345 

weak,  and  he  says  she  is  in  danger  unless  we  can  get 
her  away,  and  that  she  must  go  before  winter." 

Ned  leaned  on  his  hoe  and  looked  at  his  sister 
with  a  shocked  expression  on  his  face.  "Take  her 
away,  Lu?  And  what  have  we  to  take  her  away 
with?  It  means  money,  and  we  are  in  debt  now." 

"I'm  only  telling  you  what  the  doctor  says,"  said 
Lu,  disconsolately.  "As  to  the  wherewithal,  that 
part  looks  as  impossible  as  if  we  were  going  to  send 
her  to  the  moon." 

"But  if  it  takes  that  to  save  her,  we  must  do  it," 
said  Ned,  decidedly,  and  looking  thoughtful.  "We 
must  make  any  sacrifice  for  that,  Lu." 

"So  I  am  aware.  But  how?  I'll  admit  if  there's 
a  way  we  must  and  will.  Now  in  mother's  case  I 
saw  the  way,  though  it  didn't  seem  to  avail  much 
after  all,  but  this — "  Lu's  voice  broke,  the  tears 
welling  up  into  her  eyes.  "I  can't  see  how  we  can 
make  money  enough  to  pay  her  fare,  to  say  nothing 
of  finding  a  place  for  her  to  stay  where  she  would 
be  cared  for;  besides,  we  could  not  send  her  alone." 

They  sat  down  in  the  corner  of  the  garden  under 
the  old  cherry  tree,  the  brother  and  sister,  and  dis- 
cussed the  matter  for  a  long  time.  And  though 
neither  spoke  of  it,  each  thought  with  a  pang  of  the 
little  family  council  of  five  which  the  mother  had  so 
many  times  called  together  in  the  old  days  when  per- 
plexing questions  confronted  them.  How  sadly  and 
quickly  had  their  numbers  diminished,  and  they  two 
alone  must  meet  the  issue,  for  Madeline  could  not  be 
admitted  this  time. 


346  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

The  longer  they  talked,  the  more  difficult  seemed 
the  proposition ;  the  more  they  discussed,  the  darker 
the  future  looked,  and  the  less  probability  of  their 
finding  a  way  in  which  to  give  their  little  sister  the 
care  she  needed.  An  hour  or  more  passed  by  and 
both  were  almost  distracted  when  the  gate  latch 
clicked  and  a  girlish  voice  called : 

"Well,  here  you  are.  I've  found  you  at  last! 
Aren't  you  'at  home'  to  callers?  I  found  Madeline 
asleep  in  the  hammock  and  no  other  sign  of  life 
anywhere  around.  I  thought  you'd  soon  be  back,  so 
I  found  a  pillow,  curled  up  in  the  lawn  chair,  and 
dozed  off  to  sleep  to  be  awakened  by  a  flock  of  noisy 
blackbirds.  You  look  as  solemn  as  owls.  What's  the 
matter?"  And  Mamie,  in  fresh  white  dimity,  and 
smiling  face  quite  in  contrast  to  theirs,  dropped 
down  beside  them  on  the  grass.  Ned's  face  lighted 
up  and  Lu's  looked  her  thankfulness  for  the  inter- 
ruption. 

"You  float  in  upon  us  like  some  bright  angel, 
Mamie,"  Lu  declared.  "I  hope  you'll  be  as  resource- 
ful as  tradition  tells  us  they  are.  Ned  and  I  have 
reached  our  limit,  it  seems.  Tell  her,  Ned." 

"You  tell  her,"  insisted  her  brother. 

Mamie's  face  grew  instantly  serious  as  Lu  began, 
and  leaning  her  chin  upon  one  hand,  and  the  elbow 
resting  on  her  knee,  she  silently  listened  and  grew 
thoughtful. 

"The  simplest  thing  in  the  world,"  she  said  when 
Lu  had  finished  and  they  were  all  silent  for  a  mo- 
ment. "I  wonder  you  did  not  think  of  it.  Let  Made- 


THE    PATH    OF   HIS    CHOOSING  347 

line  go  with  mamma  and  me.  I'm  sure  mamma  would 
be  glad  to  have  her  with  us.  And  you  know  papa 
has  written  that  one  of  the  brethren  out  there  is 
going  to  let  us  have  his  cottage  up  in  the  mountains 
for  a  while  this  fall.  Nothing  could  be  better  for  her, 
and  papa  says  it's  so  beautiful  there  that  I'm  sure 
she  can't  get  lonesome.  You  know  I  do  not  take  my 
position  until  the  first  of  September,  so  I'll  be  up 
there  with  them  a  little  while." 

Lu  and  Ned  looked  at  each  other,  hope  dawning  in 
their  eyes. 

"I  can  get  the  grammar  department  in  the  school 
here,  I  believe,"  Ned  said.  "The  place  is  still  open, 
and  by  taking  it  I  can  easily  pay  her  fare  and  ex- 
penses." 

"And  I  can  stay  at  home  and  cook  this  year  as  I 
did  last,"  said  Lu.  "I  can  keep  up  all  the  household 
expenses  that  way,  so  we  can  have  all  yours  to  spend 
for  her  and  to  pay  up  some  of  the  little  debts  we 
owe." 

"It  must  be  done,"  Ned  said,  with  quick  decision. 
"It's  wonderfully  good  of  you,  Mamie,"  he  added, 
gratefully,  "to  offer  to  take  her,  but  I  am  afraid  it 
will  be  too  much  of  a  burden  for  your  mother." 

"I'm  sure  mamma  won't  think  so  at  all,"  said 
Mamie,  "but  just  to  prove  it  I'll  ask  her  at  once  and 
let  you  know." 

"And  I'll  see  about  the  school,"  said  Ned. 

"And  I'll  tell  Madeline,"  said  Lu,  "and  see  if  she's 
willing  to  go." 

In  a  few  days  arrangements  were  thus  satisfac- 


348  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

torily  settled.  In  no  other  way  would  Madeline  have 
consented  to  go  so  far  away  from  Ned  and  Lu,  though 
she  was  eager  for  the  trip.  Things  were  made  ready 
in  a  hurry.  Lu  stitched  away  almost  day  and  night, 
getting  new  clothes  made  and  old  ones  fixed  over  for 
the  sister,  and  in  less  than  two  weeks  everything 
was  done,  the  necessary  money  borrowed,  tickets 
bought,  and  Mrs.  Clayton,  Mamie,  and  Madeline  were 
journeying  on  their  westward  way  over  the  moun- 
tains. 

The  evening  after  their  departure  Ned  and  Lu  sat 
down  to  their  lonely  supper  table  to  make  a  pretense 
of  eating.  Lu's  face  had  grown  thin  with  the  months 
of  care  and  anxiety  for  her  mother,  and  her  bereave- 
ment, and  the  subsequent  worry  over  the  younger 
sister.  As  she  poured  for  her  brother  the  cup  of 
barley  and  passed  it  to  him,  she  tried  to  jest  lightly, 
but  her  laugh  sounded  hollow  in  the  quiet  little 
kitchen.  His  attempts  at  conversation  were  equally 
as  unsuccessful  and  they  soon  both  relapsed  into 
silence.  The  little  clock  on  the  shelf  valiantly  did 
its  part  to  break  the  stillness,  and  louder  and 
louder  seemed  to  tick  as  the  moments  passed.  At 
last  Ned  pushed'  back  from  the  table. 

"It's  no  use  trying  to  eat  supper  this  evening, 
Lu/'  he  said  with  a  half  choke  in  his  voice.  "I 
know  you've  fixed  everything  just  as  nice  and  tasty 
as  you  always  do,  but  it  simply  won't  slide  down. 
Leave  the  dishes  and  let's  go  over  to  Sam's  and 
Sarah's  for  a  while." 

Lu  obeyed  willingly,  and  with  a  feeling  of  relief. 


. 

THE    PATH    OF    HIS    CHOOSING  349 

It  was  late  when  they  came  back  home  again.  By 
the  window  in  her  own  little  room  before  retiring, 
the  girl  offered  but  one  short,  simple  petition  that 
night. 

"Dear  Lord/'  she  whispered,  "I'm  stronger  and 
better  able  to  bear  these  hard  things  than  the  others. 
Lift,  then,  so  far  as  possible,  the  burdens  and  sor- 
rows from  their  shoulders,  and  let  the  heaviest  part 
rest  upon  me." 


350  A  VINEYARD    STORY 


CHAPTER  34 

"A   MERE  MATTER  OF  SENTIMENT" 

THE  IMMEDIATE  weeks  which  followed  were 
trying  ones  to  the  two  young  people,  left  be- 
hind to  adjust  themselves  to  a  new  situation, 
to  work  out  the  new  problems  it  involved,  and  to  face 
many  lonely  hours.  Ned  for  a  tune  seemed  to  have 
entirely  lost  his  old  cheeriness,  and  all  Lu's  efforts  to 
brighten  his  evenings  and  the  few  moments  during 
the  day  when  he  was  at  home  were  of  little  avail. 
He  came  and  went  silently,  with  a  preoccupied  man- 
ner, was  almost  cross  at  times,  and  when  September 
came,  took  up  his  school  work  with  a  dogged  air  of 
indifference.  He  was  so  unlike  himself  that  Lu  be- 
gan to  wonder,  as  she  performed  the  ceaseless  round 
of  daily  tasks,  if  she,  too,  were  growing  morose  and 
fretful. 

"I  believe  I'm  staying  too  close  to  my  work,"  she 
reflected  one  afternoon.  "I  begin  to  feel  so  cross  and 
irritable  myself  that  it's  no  wonder  Ned  can't  keep 
cheerful.  S'pose  he  feels  something  the  same  way, 
and  my  gloomy  countenance  isn't  very  inspiring. 
Guess  I'll  leave  my  work  a  little  while  this  after- 
noon and  run  over  to  Dora's  and  brighten  up  a  bit." 
It  was  an  inviting  world  outside — a  sunny  October 
day  and  the  maples  were  flashing  their  gleaming 
robes  conspicuously  amid  the  reds  and  browns  of 
their  neighboring  oaks.  Just  as  Lu  stepped  out  on 


"A   MERE    MATTER    OF    SENTIMENT"          351 

the  porch  and  paused  to  fasten  the  door,  Dora  her- 
self came  hurrying  down  the  street  and  in  at  the 
front  gate. 

"Oh,  Lu,"  she  panted,  breathless  with  excitement, 
"I've  just  learned  the  greatest  news !  Guess  what?" 

"Impossible,"  declared  Lu.  "My  brain  is  too  dulled 
with  the  sordid  things  of  life.  It  must  be  startling, 
so  don't  keep  me  guessing." 

"Startling  all  right,"  replied  Dora,  sitting  down  on 
the  top  porch  step.  "Please  let  me  get  my  breath 
first — it's  about  Billy  and — Meta " 

"Billy  and  Meta !"  exclaimed  Lu,  her  hand  on  the 
door  knob,  a  sudden  premonition  bringing  a  sharp- 
ness to  her  tone  as  she  asked,  "What  do  you  mean?" 

"I  mean  to  say  they're  engaged.  Isn't  it  great?  I 
always  thought  Billy  liked  Meta,  but  I  never  dreamed 
they'd  decide  matters  so  quickly.  Of  course  I  sup- 
pose her  being  up  there  all  summer  with  her  aunt — 
her  ranch  adjoins  Mr.  Gibson's,  you  know — they've 
been  together  a  good  deal.  Meta  always  did  think 
Billy  was  the  sum  total  of  all  excellence " 

"How  did  you  hear  it?"  asked  Lu,  fingering  the 
key  and  looking  down  at  Dora,  whose  face  was 
flushed  with  gratified  excitement  at  being  the  first  to 
tell  the  news. 

"Oh,  I  just  got  a  little  note  from  her  telling  about 
her  new  ring  and  how  happy  she  was.  'Guess  who  ?' 
she  added  at  the  end.  As  if  I  couldn't  do  that  easy 
when  she's  been  writing  about  her  rides  and  good 
times  with  Billy  all  summer.  You  know  he  was  quite 
attentive  to  her  last  winter  and  spring." 


352  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

"Yes-s,"  assented  Lu,  slowly,  a  heavy  weight  seem- 
ing suddenly  to  oppress  her. 

"Isn't  it  the  loveliest  thing  you  ever  heard?"  de- 
clared Dora,  romantically,  all  unconscious  of  the  tu- 
mult she  was  stirring  in  Lu's  heart.  "Meta's  never 
had  very  much,  and  how  she  will  enjoy  Billy's 
money!  She  dearly  loves  fine  things." 

"I  suppose  so,"  Lu  answered,  "but  I  hope  I — I  hope 
she — hasn't  thought  of  it  from  that  standpoint, 
though  such  things  do  appeal  to  her." 

"Well,  I  wonder  who  of  us  they  don't  appeal  to," 
laughed  Dora.  "You  know  yourself  that  if  a  fellow 
had  plenty  of  money  and  you  knew  he  was  generous 
and  could  give  you  a  home  it  would  count  in  your 
eyes  a  good  deal  more  than  if  he  hadn't  anything. 
Now  be  honest,  Lu." 

"I  know  he  wouldn't,"  Lu  flashed  back,  indig- 
nantly. "I  wouldn't  give  a  fig  for  the  money  part  if 
he  didn't  amount  to  something  without  it." 

"Oh,  of  course  we  would  all  want  him  to  be  up  to 
the  standard  in  manners  and  goodness,"  Dora  quali- 
fied, "but  just  the  same,  the  other  counts  with  most 
girls,  and  you  are  very  unlike  the  rest  of  us  if  it 
doesn't  count  with  you,  too." 

"Then  I'm  unlike,"  retorted  Lu  sharply,  "and  I 
hope  Meta  is.  I  hope  if  she — if  she  marries — Billy, 
she'll  like  him  regardless  of  other  considerations. 
He's  more  deserving  than  that." 

Dora  laughed  again.  "He's  a  good  fellow  all  right," 
she  replied,  "but  he  wouldn't  be  half  so  desirable  if 


"'What's  brought  you  home  this  time  of  the  morning?' 
she  asks.  ...  'I  thought  you  were  going  to  be  unusually  busy 
to-day.'  "  (See  page  377.) 


"A   MERE    MATTER    OF    SENTIMENT"          353 

he  were  poor.    Meta  thinks  that  way,  too,  for  she 
said  as  much  to  me  one  time." 

"I  say  if  she  really  cared  for  him  she  wouldn't 
even  think  of  that,"  averred  the  other,  stoutly. 

"You  always  were  an  idealist,  Lu,  in  spite  of  your 
protests  to  the  contrary.  For  a  girl  who  makes  the 
claim  to  be  practical,  you  have  a  lot  of  very  fine-spun 
theories.  Meta's  a  good  girl  all  right  and  she'll  make 
Billy  a  good  wife,  and  he'll  never  know  the  difference 
if  she  does  care  for  his  money.  Come  to  think  of  it 
now,"  she  added,  "you  ought  to  have  married  him 
yourself;  then,  of  course  it  would  have  been  neces- 
sary to  have  some  splendid  test  to  prove  to  him  you 
really  loved  him  and  not  his  money,  just  like  it  is  in 
stories." 

Lu's  face  flushed  and  her  lips  closed  tightly. 

"Quite  romantic,"  she  remarked,  dryly,  "but  since 
I'm  not  given  to  romance,  I  greatly  fear  the  test 
would  fail.  Suppose  you  come  in.  There's  a  com- 
fortable rocker  in  the  house." 

"Gracious,  no !"  Dora  answered,  springing  up  with 
sudden  remembrance.  "Mother's  gone  down  town. 
She  left  the  baby  with  me  and  told  me  not  to  leave 
him  a  minute,  but  when  I  got  the  letter  I  just 
couldn't  wait  till  she  got  back,  to  tell  some  one.  You 
were  the  nearest,  and  I  knew  you'd  be  just  crazy  to 
know.  Can't  you  come  back  with  me  ?  I  really  must 
go.  Mother  would  be  horrified  if  she  knew  I'd  left 
Jacky  this  way." 

"I  have  some  baking  I  must  get  done." 

"But  I  thought  you  were  leaving  just  now?" 
VS— 23 


354  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

"So  I  was,"  Lu  replied,  "but  I  happen  to  remember 
I  promised  Mrs.  Gates  to  bake  a  cake  for  her  sup- 
per. I  think  I'd  better  do  it  first.  Maybe  I  can  run 
over  later  on." 

"All  right,  then.  I  must  be  going.  Do  come."  And 
Dora  hastened  away  down  the  leaf-strewn  path, 
while  Lu  as  hastily  entered  the  house  and  closed  the 
door. 

"It's  fortunate  to  be  able  to  make  one's  memory 
serve  just  when  you  need  it  most,"  she  said  to  her- 
self a  little  grimly.  "Anyhow  I  didn't  story  to  Dora, 
though  I  intended  to  bake  the  cake  when  I  got  back, 
but — but — I  didn't  know  I  cared  like  this.  I  under- 
stand now  why  Billy  hasn't  written  for  nearly  three 
weeks.  Strange  how  people  forget  their  friends 
when  they're  having  a  good  time  themselves.  I  won- 
der why — " 

'She  broke  off  suddenly  with  an  air  of  grim  de- 
termination, walked  straight  to  the  mirror  in  the 
corner,  and  placing  her  elbows  on  the  little  shelf 
rested  her  chin  in  her  hands  and  gazed  severely  at 
her  own  reflection. 

"Lu  Warren,"  she  began,  with  all  the  sternness 
and  solemnity  of  a  judge  pronouncing  a  sentence, 
"you  are  a  silly  dunce.  You've  done  a  good  many  fool- 
ish things,  but  I  declare  I  never  thought  this  of  you. 
Sentiment!  Bah!  Now  you  know  well  enough  you 
don't  care  one  single  mite  for  Billy  Gibson.  Of 
course  you  don't.  Do  you  understand?  It's  perfect 
nonsense,  you  who  pride  yourself  on  having  just 
plain  common  sense.  Of  course  Billy's  good  as  gold. 


"A   MERE    MATTER   OF    SENTIMENT"          355 

There's  not  another  like  him  in  the  world — but  what 
do  you  care,  and  you  ought  to  be  glad  Meta  does. 
Maybe  she  does  care  for  him  instead  of  his  money 
(only  you  know  she  doesn't)  but  that's  no  difference 
to  you.  You  ought  to  be  spending  your  time  in 
thanksgiving  that  Madeline  is  getting  better,  and 
that  if  she  continues  to  improve  as  fast  as  she  has 
done  since  she  went  West,  she  can  come  back  next 
spring.  You  are  very  ungrateful  and  silly.  Now  you 
walk  straight  into  the  kitchen  and  set  yourself  to 
work  making  that  cake  for  Mrs,  Gates,  and  don't  you 
let  me  hear  another  word  out  of  you — for  if  you  dare 
to  let  a  mere  matter  of  sentiment  trouble  you  I'll — " 

But  this  unspoken  threat  failed  somehow  to  alarm 
the  girl  in  the  mirror.  Strange  to  say,  instead  of 
obeying  the  stern  commands  of  her  dictator,  she 
went  in  exactly  the  opposite  direction  and  did 
exactly  the  opposite  thing  she  had  been  told.  She 
went — but  there,  how  can  I  tell  you  just  where  she 
went  or  what  she  did,  for  the  front  window  blind 
was  drawn,  and  the  door  was  locked.  I  can  only  tell 
you  that  the  customer  who  called  that  afternoon  for 
a  loaf  of  bread  received  no  response  to  his  knock,  and 
that  the  cake  for  Mrs.  Gates  was  not  ready  until 
late  in  the  afternoon.  Just  before  the  time  for  Ned 
to  come  home  the  blind  was  mysteriously  raised  and 
the  door  unlocked,  and  when  he  entered  there  seemed 
nothing  unusual  in  Lu's  manner  as  she  bustled  to  and 
from  the  kitchen  and  pantry,  and  from  pantry  to 
cook  stove. 

Even  if  there  had  been  anything  unusual  about 


356  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

the  state  of  affairs  at  home  that  evening,  Ned  was 
entirely  too  absent-minded  to  notice  it.  Yet  for  some 
reason  his  mood  had  changed  and  he  was  in  most  ex- 
cellent spirits.  The  shadow  that  had  hovered  over 
him  for  weeks  had  disappeared,  and  it  seemed  to  his 
sister  he  had  never  been  more  inclined  to  play  jokes 
and  to  jest.  His  laugh  resounded  gayly  and  his 
cheery  whistle  floated  tantalizingly  back  to  her  from 
the  barnyard  whither  he  had  betaken  himself  to  do 
the  chores,  after  teasing  her,  the  cat,  the  dog,  and 
anything  else  that  came  in  his  way. 

As  the  evening  passed  and  this  jocular  mood  con- 
tinued, she  wondered.  She  wondered  still  more  the 
next  day  when  his  good  spirits  fairly  bubbled  over. 
The  moroseness  which  had  possessed  him  for  many 
days  had  disappeared  as  suddenly  as  her  own  heart 
heaviness  had  come.  Twice  she  approached  him  to 
tell  him  of  Billy's  and  Meta's  engagement,  but  went 
back  to  her  work  without  having  done  so.  The  fol- 
lowing noon  he  came  in  from  school  more  quietly. 
As  she  busied  herself  putting  away  the  weekly  wash- 
ing she  caught  his  low  whistle  in  the  room  down- 
stairs, and  then  heard  him  ascending  the  stairs  three 
steps  at  a  time  and  go  to  his  room.  She  placed  the 
clean  aprons  and  waists  in  her  dresser,  and  taking 
the  freshly  ironed  shirts  and  handkerchiefs  of  her 
brother,  went  into  the  hall.  As  she  touched  the  door- 
knob and  stepped  rather  abruptly  into  his  room  he 
turned  with  a  quick  start  and  hastily  shoved  some- 
thing into  the  top  drawer  of  his  desk. 


"A   MERE    MATTER   OF    SENTIMENT"         357 

"Hello,  sis !"  he  said  lightly,  and  with  an  evident 
attempt  to  look  unconcerned. 

"Here  are  your  clean  clothes,"  Lu  answered. 
"What's  the  matter  with  you,  Ned  ?  You  look  like  a 
youngster  caught  stealing  jam,"  she  said,  suspi- 
ciously. "Don't  tell  me  you  haven't  had  something 
mysterious  up  your  sleeve  these  last  two  or  three 
days." 

"Ah,  come  off,  sis,"  he  answered,  thrusting  his 
hands  in  his  pockets  and  striding  around  the  small 
room  in  an  attempt  to  appear  indifferent. 

"You  can't  fool  me,"  said  Lu,  giving  him  a  straight 
look.  "The  evidence  is  against  you,  Ned.  'Fess  up. 
What  is  it?" 

Ned  stopped  in  his  walk  and  looked  at  his  sister. 
"Guess  I  might  as  well,  Lu,  seeing  as  how  you  'most 
caught  me.  Besides,  I'm  just  about  ready  to  explode 
with  the  secret  anyhow.  Come  over  here." 

He  took  her  by  the  arm  and  led  her  to  his  desk 
in  the  corner  of  the  room  and  pulled  open  the  drawer 
he  had  so  hastily  closed  a  moment  before.  "There 
'tis,"  he  said,  awkwardly.  "That's  my  secret." 

Lu's  eyes  fell  upon  a  tiny  box  in  the  corner.  "Oh, 
is  it  Mamie,  Ned?"  she  asked  with  sudden  compre- 
hension, opening  it  and  looking  at  the  slender  band 
of  gold,  whose  single  gem  reflected  the  sunlight  in 
flashing  gleams. 

He  nodded,  his  eyes  shining. 

"Oh,  Ned,  I'm  so  glad,  and  so  surprised.  I — I 
rather  thought  you  and  Mamie  were  not — so  friendly 
as  you  used  to  be." 


358  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

"Well,  we  did  have  a  sort  of  a  quarrel  some  time 
ago — and — oh,  I  don't  know,  the  fact  was  I  got  tired 
of  it,  so  I  pocketed  my  pride  a  week  or  two  ago  and 
wrote  her  a  long  letter.  I  got  her  answer  day  before 
yesterday.  She's  sure  a  wonder,  Lu,  and  I'm  the 
most  fortunate  fellow  on  earth,"  he  declared,  jubi- 
lantly. "Why  don't  you  congratulate  your  brother?" 

Lu  smiled  indulgently.  "Do  give  me  time.  I'm 
surely  glad.  You  know  that,  and  you  know,  too, 
there's  no  girl  in  the  world  I'd  rather  have  for  a  sis- 
ter than  Mamie.  You're  not  half  good  enough  for 
her,  even  if  you  are  my  brother." 

"I  know  it,"  Ned  replied,  his  eyes  glowing.  "That's 
what  makes  me  wonder  about  it  so.  You'll  never 
know  what  such  a  symbol  as  that  means,  sis,  till  you 
have  a  like  experience,"  he  added. 

"Oh,  perhaps  not,"  Lu  replied  quickly,  hastily 
placing  the  circlet  back  in  the  box  and  turning  away. 
"I'm  not  much  for  sentiment  anyhow,  as  you  know ; 
but  dinner's  ready,  Ned,  and  getting  cold.  Your 
favorite  pudding  is  in  the  warming  oven  and  I  hope 
you'll  enjoy  it  in  spite  of  letters  and  rings  and  the 
best  girl  in  the  world.  I'm  ravenously  hungry  my- 
self and  you  can  tell  me  the  rest  of  the  story  while 
we  eat." 


THE    CREMATION    OF    CLEOPATRA  359 


CHAPTER  35 
THE  CREMATION  OF  CLEOPATRA 

CLEOPATRA,  of  all  exasperating  fowls  you  are 
the  worst !"  Lu  stepped  out  on  the  back  porch 
one  morning  a  few  days  later  to  empty  a  pan 
of  parings  and  paused  in  astonishment  as  her  pet 
hen  walked  sedately  toward  her,  followed  by  a  small 
brood  of  wobbly  chickens. 

"So  that's  what  you've  been  doing,"  she  com- 
mented, as  the  hen  looked  up  at  her  pertly.  "Steal- 
ing your  nest  out  and  here  in  October  coming  in 
with  a  nice  little  bunch  for  me  to  take  care  of  during 
the  cold  weather.  You  don't  deserve  a  penny's  worth 
of  grain  this  winter  for  playing  such  a  trick." 

The  old  hen  clucked  contentedly,  quite  unmindful 
of  this  tirade  of  her  mistress,  and  pecked  at  some 
fallen  crumbs  hungrily.  A  weak,  wobbly  little  black 
chicken,  left  far  in  the  rear,  chirped  in  distress  and 
finally  managed  to  scramble  nearer.  The  moment 
the  hen  caught  sight  of  it  she  darted  back  fiercely 
and  began  pecking  it  cruelly  on  the  head.  Cleopatra 
had  always  had  antipathy  for  black  chickens.  Though 
a  dark  Plymouth  Rock  herself,  she  would  not  toler- 
ate color,  and  showed  her  resentment  of  it  in  her  off- 
spring by  promptly  dispensing  with  them  at  the 
earliest  moment. 

"Cleopatra,  you  wicked  hen !"  cried  the  girl.  "I'll 
forgive  you  for  bringing  me  your  brood  to  take  care 


360  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

of,  but  if  you  ever  kill  another  chicken  you'll  suffer 
for  it." 

The  hen  showed  her  disdain  for  this  threat  by 
making  a  vicious  peck,  then  grabbing  the  unfortunate 
black  chick  by  the  top  of  the  head  and  giving  it  a 
fling  to  one  side — dead. 

"Wretched  thing!"  exclaimed  the  indignant  girl, 
catching  up  a  stick  of  wood  and  throwing  it  at  her. 
For  once  Lu's  aim  unexpectedly  went  straight  to  the 
mark.  The  stick  of  wood  whizzed  through  the  air 
angrily,  striking  the  hen  on  the  neck,  dislocating  it, 
and  she  tumbled  over. 

"There,  I've  done  it,  sure  enough,"  said  the  girl, 
repentantly.  "Well,  she  deserved  it,  though  I  didn't 
mean  to  kill  her.  Poor  thing!"  The  chickens  were 
cheeping  dismally  about.  "Dead  all  right,  and  left 
a  bunch  of  orphans  to  my  care.  Always  the  incon- 
siderate Cleopatra.  Well,  it's  an  ill  wind  that  blows 
nobody  good!  I've  been  wondering  what  we'd  have 
for  dinner.  Ned  will  be  surprised  to  find  Cleopatra 
in  the  kettle.  Chicken  and  dumplings  will  be  an 
agreeable  change  from  the  quickly  prepared  lunches 
I've  been  giving  him  of  late.  I'd  better  put  the  water 
on  to  heat  at  once.  I  say  it's  none  too  early  to 
start  cooking.  A  five-year-old  hen  will  need  plenty 
of  time." 

Such  was  the  tragic  end  of  the  hen  which  had  been 
a  dooryard  pet  and  pest  for  a  number  of  years.  Lu 
gathered  the  frightened  little  brood  into  a  basket, 
wrapped  them  comfortably  and  put  them  in  a  warm 
corner  of  the  kitchen.  A  half  hour  before  noon  she 


THE   CREMATION   OF   CLEOPATRA  361 

lifted  the  lid  and  looked  dubiously  into  the  kettle, 
thrust  her  fork  in  here  and  there,  and  shook  her 
head. 

"Just  as  contrary  as  ever,"  she  declared.  "Tough 
as  leather.  But  I'll  make  the  dumplings  anyhow, 
and  the  gravy  will  be  good.  I  declare  to  goodness, 
Cleopatra,  we'll  eat  you  if  I  have  to  cook  you  another 
half  day." 

Just  as  she  had  dropped  the  last  dumpling  in  the 
kettle  and  covered  it  with  the  lid,  a  loud  ringing 
sounded  from  the  front  door.  "A  customer,  and 
just  at  the  wrong  time,  of  course,"  she  said,  hur- 
riedly. "But  these  will  be  all  right  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, though  I'm  afraid  I  haven't  put  in  enough 
water." 

Again  the  bell  rang  urgently,  and  Lu  hurried  into 
the  other  room.  The  day  was  warm  and  the  inside 
door  stood  ajar.  She  pushed  the  screen  open,  but 
there  was  no  one  in  sight. 

"That  tease  of  a  brother-!  He  must  have  closed 
school  early,"  the  girl  said  aloud.  "He's  probably 
around  the  corner.  Well,  I  haven't  time  to  stop  and 
hunt  for  him  now,"  she  concluded,  turning  back. 

Somebody  stepped  quickly  from  behind  the  door. 
One  arm  caught  and  held  her,  and  a  hand  covered 
her  eyes. 

"Mercy,  Ned,  how  you  startled — " 

The  sentence  was  not  completed,  for  Lu  became 
suddenly  conscious  that  the  arm  that  held  her  fast, 
the  hand  over  her  eyes  were  not  Ned's,  yet  she  dared 


362  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

not  guess.    She  waited  in  the  profound  silence  that 
followed,  her  heart  beating  tumultuously. 

"Dinner  is  nearly  ready,"  she  said  at  last,  cast- 
ing about  for  something  to  say.  "I  must  hurry  to 
the  kitchen  or  it  will  all  be  spoiled." 

No  answer. 

"Honestly,  I  just  put  a  cake  in  the  oven — if  you 
want  a  piece — " 

Still  no  answer. 

"And  the  dumplings  will  get  all  soggy." 

Evidently  there  was  to  be  no  relenting. 

"Well,  then,"  Lu  at  last  ventured  desperately, 
"perhaps  you'd  like  me  to  tell  you  that  Billy  Gibson 
has  returned  from  Dakota  and  will  probably  invite 
himself  to  call — — " 

"Good  guesser,"  came  the  quick  response,  accom- 
panied by  a  jolly  laugh  as  the  hand  was  removed 
from  her  eyes  and  he  stooped  to  kiss  her  before  there 
was  time  for  protest. 

"My  eyes!  Lu,  but  it's  good  to  see  you  again. 
Seems  to  me  I've  been  gone  for  ages.  Never  knew 
so  many  delays  to  occur  in  my  life,  and  after  I  got 
started  a  freight  train  wreck  ahead  of  us  yesterday 
held  us  up  for  three  hours  till  I  was  on  the  verge  of 
distraction.  Do  say  you're  glad  to  see  me  and  say  it 
quick.  I  vowed  if  I  ever  got  back  to  Banforth,  I'd 
never  leave  the  place  again  unless  you'd  go  with  me, 
Lu.  You  will,  won't  you ?  Why  don't  you  answer?" 

"You  haven't  given  me  time  yet  ?"    answered  the 


THE    CREMATION    OF    CLEOPATRA  363 

girl,  half  bewildered  at  Billy's  whirlwind  statements 
and  questions,  "Besides — " 

"Besides  what?" 

"If  you  were  so  dreadfully  anxious  you  might  have 
written,  at  least,  and  explained — some  things — " 

"So  I  might,  and  so  I  would  have  done,  but  for  two 
weeks  I've  been  held  back  a  day  at  a  time,  expecting 
sure  to  start  the  following  one.  Dad  wasn't  so  well, 
and  each  morning  he  kept  begging  me  to  stay  one 
day  longer,  so  I  didn't  have  the  heart  to  leave  him 
till  Sally  and  her  husband  came  to  take  care  of  the 
ranch,  and  then  at  the  very  last  minute,  a  few  days 
ago  that  pesky  little  Meta^Benders  sat  her  foot  down 
and  declared  I  had  to  stay  to  her  wedding.  Said  I'd 
been  the  one  to  get  her  and  her  dear  Peter  acquainted 
and  no  one  else  should  perform  the  ceremony.  I  con- 
sented at  last,  if  they'd  promise  to  hurry  it  forward, 
and  they  did — no  doubt  more  glad  of  the  excuse 
than  of  the  fact  that  I  was  there." 

"And  who's  Peter?"  asked  Lu,  suddenly  dimpling 
into  smiles  and  sensing  a  comfortable  feeling  that 
the  world  and  its  affairs  had  all  at  once  been  properly 
righted. 

"Oh,  Peter's  a  red-headed  duffer — Irish  in  wit, 
name,  and  face.  They  fell  madly  in  love  at  the  first 
in  spite  of  Meta's  oft-avowed  preference  to  black  hair 
and  dark  eyes.  Peter's  freckles  are  more  precious 
to  her  now  than  rubies.  Good  fellow  he  is,  too,  and 
I'm  rather  proud  to  think  I  had  a  hand  in  the  match. 
He  adores  her  and  is  as  kind-hearted  a  chap  as  ever 
lived." 


364  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

"I'm  so  glad  for  Meta,"  said  Lu,  looking  down  de- 
murely. "I — I  heard  she  was  engaged." 

"Yes,  they  were  not  long  in  deciding  matters,  but 
I'm  not  particularly  interested  in  their  affairs  just 
now.  Will  you  please  to  remember  that  you  haven't 
answered  my  question  yet  ?" 

"Have  you  heard  about  Ned  and  Mamie?" 

"Ned  and  Mamie  ?   You  don't  mean " 

"Ned  sent  her  the  ring  a  few  days  ago." 

"Jolly,  that's  great!  I'm  glad  to  hear  it.  But 
Lu " 

The  door  between  the  living  room  and  kitchen  was 
closed,  but  at  this  moment  from  the  whereabouts 
of  the  kitchen  stove  came  ominous  sounds,  while  sun- 
dry odors  of  burning  viands  penetrated  at  last. 

"My  goodness,  Billy,  Cleopatra's  burning  up!"  Lu 
exclaimed,  tearing  herself  from  his  grasp  and  flying 
towards  the  kitchen. 

"Cleopatra  what?"  cried  Billy,  dashing  after  her, 
not  an  idea  as  to  what  was  happening.  A  cloud  of 
smoke  and  unpleasant  odors  of  burning  things 
greeted  them  as  they  opened  the  door  into  the 
kitchen  and  a  sight  met  their  eyes.  The  fire  under 
the  kettle  had  blazed  up  and  set  the  contents  boiling 
rapidly,  the  steam  and  puffy  dumplings  had  lifted 
the  lid,  and  the  top  of  the  stove  was  one  splatter  of 
smoking  soup  and  dumplings. 

Lu  ran  for  a  holder  and  set  the  kettle  out  on  the 
stove.  Then  she  lifted  the  lid  and  peered  in.  What 
was  left  within  had  stuck  to  the  sides  and  bottom  of 


THE    CREMATION    OF    CLEOPATRA  365 

the  kettle  and  was  burning  black.    Billy  looked  over 
her  shoulder. 

"Cleopatra  has  all  burned  up,"  she  remarked,  re- 
gretfully. "She  had  her  revenge  after  all.  That 
bird  always  did  get  the  best  of  me  anyhow." 

"Evidently  there's  not  much  best  left." 

"An  eventful  life,"  soliloquized  the  girl,  "and  for- 
ever unfortunate.  Twice  she  fell  into  the  swill  pail 
and  was  rescued  just  before  the  last  struggle.  Once 
she  got  stepped  on  by  a  horse  and  her  leg  broken. 
Another  time  she  was  nearly  drowned  in  a  rainstorm 
and  was  resuscitated  only  after  much  effort.  Made- 
line forgot  her  and  left  her  outside  the  henhouse  one 
cold  winter  night  and  her  comb  froze  off.  Her  death 
has  been  no  less  tragic.  To-day  when  she  killed  one 
of  her  innocent  chicks  I  flung  a  stick  of  wood  at  her 
and  inadvertently  broke  her  neck.  Therefore  she 
was  consigned  to  the  kettle.  In  my  vengeance,  how- 
ever, I  had  no  intention  of  cremating  her." 

"You  don't  mean  to  tell  me  you  made  as  straight 
a  throw  as  that?" 

"There's  the  evidence,"  she  replied,  pointing  to  the 
still  smoking  kettle,  and  flying  around  to  raise  the 
windows,  and  open  wide  the  door. 

"And  here's  the  evidence  of  a  time  when  you 
missed  the  mark,"  Billy  said,  pulling  at  something  in 
his  overcoat  pocket.  "Now  I  come  to  think  of  it,  Lu, 
I  don't  know  but  your  aim  was  better  than  it  seemed 
at  the  time."  And  he  brought  forth  an  old  and  bat- 
tered horseshoe. 


366  A  VINEYARD  STORY 

"Have  you  got  that  ridiculous  horseshoe  yet?" 
cried  Lu  in  amazement. 

"Sure  I  have,"  responded  the  young  man,  holding 
it  up.  "Tons  couldn't  separate  me  from  that  and 
the  luck  it  symbolizes.  And  by  the  way,  Lu,"  tak- 
ing a  dilapidated  looking  article  from  another  pocket, 
"can  you  tell  me  where  the  Cinderella  is  that  lost 
this?  The  prince  is  looking  for  the  girl  who  has  its 
mate." 

"Mrs.  Clayton's  old  slipper  that  I  lost  at  the 
camp!"  exclaimed  the  girl  in  still  greater  astonish- 
ment. "Billy  Gibson,  I  hunted  those  grounds  over 
for  that  shoe.  How  did  you  get  it?" 

"Never  mind  how.  I  found  it  and  have  kept  it  in 
a  safe  place.  Where's  the  other  one  ?" 

"Such  a  mess  as  this  is,"  turning  her  attention 
again  to  the  smoking  stove.  "However  will  we  get 
it  cleaned  up?" 

"I  might  help  you  out  of  the  difficulty  if  you'd 
promise  me  the  other  shoe.  Don't  you  think  it's 
nearly  time  for  Ned  to  come  home,"  Billy  suggested 
with  subtle  strategy,  looking  at  the  clock. 

Lu  started.  "I'll  find  it,  Billy,  if  you'll  help  me  to 
get  things  straightened  up  and  this  stuff  disposed  of 
before  Ned  comes.  He's  such  a  tease!  We'll  never 
hear  the  last  of  it  if  he  finds  it  out." 

"Peace  to  the  ashes  of  Cleopatra!"  shouted  Billy, 
triumphantly,  swinging  the  kettle  from  the  stove 
with  a  grand  flourish.  "She's  done  me  one  good  turn 
anyhow,  for  which  I  bless  her  memory." 


THE    RICHER    MEED  367 

CHAPTER  36 

THE  RICHER  MEED 

^TOTWITHSTANDING     the  menu  was  minus 

^^  chicken  and  dumplings  that  day,  it  was  a  gay 
little  meal,  the  first  jolly  one  in  the  brown 
cottage  for  many  months.  Billy  and  Lu  were  more 
than  content  with  bread  and  butter,  jam,  and  a  few 
warmed  over  potatoes,  and  Ned,  blissfully  ignorant 
of  Cleopatra's  sudden  demise,  was  totally  unaware  of 
any  loss. 

"Let's  take  a  walk,"  Billy  suggested  when  Ned 
had  gone  back  to  school  and  the  two  were  finishing 
up  the  dishes.  "You  look  as  though  you  needed  an 
outing,  Lu.  What  have  you  been  doing  with  yourself, 
anyhow?  Staying  cooped  up  and  cooking  all  the 
time?"  he  asked,  as  he  wiped  the  last  utensil  and 
tossed  the  dishtowel  at  her. 

"Mostly,"  she  replied,  dodging  and  catching  it  dex- 
terously with  one  hand.  "People  are  too  hungry  to 
allow  me  much  time  for  any  runs  out  in  the  fresh 
air.  I  really  don't  believe  I  can  go  this  afternoon. 
I've  a  lot  of  baking  promised  for  this  evening." 

"Let  'em  starve,"  said  Billy,  cheerfully.  "They'll 
have  to  learn  to  get  along  without  you  in  a  little  while 
anyway,  and  it  will  do  'em  good  to  begin  by  degrees. 
Come  on." 

Lu  gave  one  glance  out  of  the  window  at  the  mel- 
low October  sunlight  dancing  through  the  bright 


368  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

leaves.  "I've  been  wanting  some  nuts,"  she  agreed, 
"and  to  go  down  to  the  glen  before  the  leaves  are 
all  gone.  Maybe  there  are  a  few  walnuts  and  hickory 
nuts  left  yet." 

The  glen  was  a  bower  of  color  and  autumnal  beauty 
that  afternoon,  with  its  mingled  browns  and  reds  and 
gold  and  softly  variegated  hues.  The  grass  was  still 
green  and  the  mossy  banks  were  strewn  with  a  light 
covering  of  leaves  which  shifted  about  and  rustled 
softly  before  each  passing  breeze.  Lu,  searching 
about  among  them  for  the  coveted  nuts,  had  relapsed 
into  an  unusual  silence  and  was  answering  Billy's 
chatter  in  monosyllables. 

"What's  the  matter?"  he  queried  at  last,  looking 
up  at  her  quizzically  as  he  stooped  to  pick  up  a  stone 
and  crack  a  hickory  nut.  "What  makes  you  so  quiet 
all  of  a  sudden?" 

Lu  flushed  and  looked  still  more  sober. 

"I've  just  been  thinking,  Billy — "  she  began,  hesi- 
tatingly. 

"Well—" 

"I've  been  wondering,"  she  went  on  slowly,  ac- 
cepting the  nuts  he  had  cracked  for  her,  "if  after  all 
it  isn't  a  mistake.  I'm  such  a  numskull,  I'm  wonder- 
ing how  you  ever  came  to  care  for  me  at  all.  I  can't 
do  any  of  the  lovely  things  other  girls  can.  You 
ought  to  have  an  accomplished  wife,  Billy — one  who 
can  sing,  and  paint,  and  entertain  your  friends  better 
than  I  can  over  do.  I  don't  know  how  to  do  any  of 
those  things,  for  I'm  just  a  plodder  and  never  had 
time  for  the  better  things,  and  maybe  haven't  the 


THE    RICHER    MEED  369 

ability  to  learn  if  I  had  the  opportunity.    I'm  not 
your  equal,  Billy." 

The  young  man  threw  some  empty  shells  from  his 
hand  against  the  rocky  bank.  The  blue  eyes,  which 
had  harbored  a  merry  twinkle  when  she  began,  had 
changed  into  varying  expressions  as  she  proceeded. 
Impulsively  now  he  took  a  step  nearer,  and  his  voice 
thrilled  with  deep  earnestness  as  he  spoke: 

"Lu,  don't  ever  speak  like  that  again.  If  I  were 
a  hundred  times  better  than  I  am  I  wouldn't  be 
worthy  of  you.  Let  others  sing  and  write  and  dream 
and  paint,  if  they  will — to  me  you  are  the  most  ac- 
complished girl  I  know — and  the  bravest." 

"Why,  Billy/'  exclaimed  the  girl  in  wide-eyed 
wonder  and  unbelief  at  his  words,  "you  know  better 
than  that,  and  I  don't  understand  how  you  can  say 
it.  I  could  never  do  anything  brave,  and  my  tasks 
have  been  of  the  commonest  sort,  while  the  sum  to- 
tal of  my  accomplishments  seems  to  be  to  cook,  wash 
dishes,  and  mend." 

"Sometimes  it  takes  more  heroism  to  do  those 
things  than  it  does  to  kill  bears,"  Billy  replied  lightly, 
but  nevertheless  as  earnestly.  "And  all  the  while," 
he  went  on,  "you  were  only  doing  such  simple  tasks 
on  the  side  as  earning  the  bread  for  the  family,  look- 
ing after  the  mother,  and  doing  the  thousand  and  one 
little  things  most  girls  neglect,  at  the  same  time 
VS— 24 


370  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

keeping  it  a  secret  from  the  brother  away  at  school. 
It  reminds  me,  Lu,  of  the  stanza: 

"  'We  call  him  great  who  does  some  deed 
That  echo  bears  from  shore  to  shore — 
Does  that,   and  then  does  nothing  more; 
Yet  would  his  work  earn  richer  meed, 
When  brought  before  the  King  of  kings, 
Were  he  but  great  in  little  things.' 

When  the  Lord  bestows  his  rewards,  Lu,  it  will  be 
rich  in  blessing  to  those  who  have  not  despised  the 
little,  unlovely  tasks,  nor  neglected  the  duty  that  was 
nearest." 

•        •••••«••• 

It  was  a  dull  November  afternoon  a  few  weeks 
later.  Lu  was  busy  at  the  sewing  machine  stitching 
at  some  house  aprons  when  Billy  ran  up  the  steps 
and  burst  into  the  room  with  his  customary  im- 
petuosity. 

'Tut  your  work  away,  Lu;  I've  something  very 
important  to  discuss,"  he  began. 

"Very  well,"  she  answered,  "but  wait  till  I  finish 
this  seam.  What  is  it?" 

"Just  this,"  he  replied,  hanging  his  hat  on  the 
rack,  and  pulling  his  chair  near  hers.  "One  of  our 
wealthy  patrons  of  the  bank  is  ill.  He  has  a  large 
estate  out  in  California,  also  a  number  of  business 
matters  that  must  be  attended  to  in  connection  with 
it,  and  he  wants  our  bank  to  look  after  it  for  him. 
Some  one  must  go  out  there,  and  the  trustees  have 
decided  upon  me.  I'm  not  at  all  averse  to  the  trip, 


THE    RICHER    MEED  371 

provided  you  are  willing  to  go  along.  Can  you  be 
ready  by  Tuesday?  We  could  have  the  wedding 
Sunday,  or  Tuesday  morning,  if  you  prefer." 

'Why,  Billy  Gibson!"  she  exclaimed.  "How  do 
you  suppose  I  can  get  ready  on  a  moment's  notice  for 
a  wedding  and  a  trip  like  that  ?" 

"Longer  than  a  moment — it's  four  days'  notice," 
he  corrected. 

"I  haven't  any  clothes  fit  for  such  a  trip ;  besides,  I 
told  you  before  I  didn't  want  to  be  married  a  day  ear- 
lier than  next  spring.  Then  there's  Ned — I  can't 
leave  him  like  that " 

"Never  mind  Ned.  He  can  take  care  of  himself — 
he  can  stay  at  Sam's  and  Sarah's  for  a  few  weeks. 
We'll  be  back  in  six  weeks,  or  a  couple  of  months  at 
the  most,  just  after  the  holidays,  maybe.  Really,  I 
won't  go  without  you.  Please  say  you  will,"  he  urged 
with  winning  persuasiveness. 

"But  listen,  Billy " 

"Now,  Lu,  it's  your  turn  to  listen  to  me  this  time. 
You  need  the  trip.  It  will  do  you  worlds  of  good,  and 
what  does  it  matter  whether  you  have  a  lot  of 
clothes  or  not  ?  There's  no  good  reason  for  your  not 
going.  You  have  three  days  in  which  to  make  a  wed- 
ding dress,  and  you  can  buy  your  new  suit  and  coat 
when  we  get  to  the  city.  We'll  go  straight  to  San 
Francisco " 

"It's  impossible—" 

"Then  there's  Madeline,  you  know  how  homesick 
she  is  getting,"  Billy  continued  evenly  and  with  artful 
diplomacy,  well  knowing  the  weight  any  reference 


372  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

to  her  might  add  to  his  argument.  "We'll  send  a 
letter  to  Mrs.  Clayton,  and  have  her  bring  Madeline 
to  San  Francisco  to  meet  us — we'll  take  a  few 
glimpses  of  western  mountain  scenery,  and  spend 
Thanksgiving  and  maybe  Christmas  with  her " 

Lu's  face  began  to  indicate  signs  of  relenting.  Her 
eyes  were  glowing  with  the  tender  light  that  always 
came  with  the  mention  of  Madeline,  but  as  she  looked 
up  she  caught  the  jubilant  expression  in  Billy's. 

"Oh,  you  rogue,"  she  answered,  with  a  merry  laugh 
of  capitulation,  "you  may  give  all  the  credit  for  this 
answer  to  my  little  sister.  You  don't  deserve  any." 


"ERODELPHIANS"  373 

CHAPTER  37 

"ERODELPHIANS" 

IN  A  certain  little  mission  house  in  a  far-off  island 
where  the  tropical  sun  was  tempered  to  a  degree 
by  the  soft,  sweet-scented  breeze,  Robert  Clayton 
bent  with  a  mystified  air  over  a  slip  of  paper  which 
had  just  been  handed  him  by  a  messenger.  This  curi- 
ous cablegram  which  had  so   startled  him  at  its 
delivery  contained  but  a  single  word,  and  a  look  of 
puzzled,  astonished  wonder  swept  his  features  as  he 
read  it. 

"What  is  it,  Robert?"  his  wife  asked,  stooping  to 
place  Baby  Eleanor  on  the  bed  and  hurrying  anx- 
iously to  his  side. 

"What  under  the  shining  skies  made  Billy  send 
such  a  cablegram  as  this !"  he  ejaculated,  and  Janey, 
looking  over  his  shoulder,  read  the  message,  headed 
at  Banforth,  addressed  to  Robert,  and  containing  the 
one  word,  "Erodelphians,"  signed  "Billy." 

"Erodelphians,"  repeated  Robert,  with  dawning 
comprehension.  "Our  old  athletic  club  name  at  Clif- 
ton Heights,  Janey,  meaning,  'We  are  brothers/  The 
first  scratch  of  any  kind  he's  ever  sent  me  since  you 
and  I  were  married,  though  I  wrote  him  twice.  Evi- 
dently he  has  forgiven  everything  at  last." 

"Isn't  that  just  like  him?"  exclaimed  Janey. 
"Who,  but  Billy,  would  have  ever  thought  of  sending 
a  cablegram  under  such  circumstances?" 


374  A   VINEYARD    STORY 

"Yes,  once  in  the  notion,  he  couldn't  get  the  word 
to  me  quick  enough,"  Robert  said,  happily.  "It's  as 
typical  of  nim  as  anything  he  ever  did.  Oh,  but  I'm 
glad!  He  couldn't  have  sent  me  anything  in  the 
world  I  appreciate  like  that.  There's  been  a  sore 
place  in  my  heart  ever  since  the  breaking  of  our 
friendship,  for  I  surely  do  think  a  lot  of  Billy." 

Baby  Eleanor  was  fretting  and  restless.  Janey 
went  back  to  toss  her  a  pretty  plaything,  and  return- 
ing again  took  the  slip  from  her  husband's  hand.  "It 
fascinates  me,"  she  said  with  a  laugh.  "I  somehow 
feel  that  it  means  even  more  than  you  think.  He 
wouldn't  have  sent  a  cablegram  just  for  that." 

"Isn't  that  enough?"  asked  Robert  with  a  pleased 
look.  "I  tell  you,  Janey,  it's  worth  more  to  me  than 
I  can  ever  express." 

His  wife  still  studied  the  paper  thoughtfully. 
"Let's  see,  the  steamer  is  due  this  afternoon,  isn't 
it?"  she  questioned.    "Perhaps  there  will  be  some- 
thing in  the  mail  which  will  explain  it  more  fully." 

"How  could  there  be,  unless  he  sent  the  cablegram 
long  after  the  letter  was  sent  ?  He  would  hardly  do 
that." 

But  the  next  mail  did  explain  it  in  part.  It  brought 
Lu's  letter,  telling  of  her  engagement  to  Billy. 

Robert  looked  at  his  wife,  as  she  read  the  news, 
with  a  flash  of  understanding.  "If  they  were  en- 
gaged two  or  three  weeks  ago  when  this  letter  was 
written,"  he  said,  "the  cablegram  we  received  this 
morning  means  they  are  married  and  Billy  and  I  are 
truly  'brothers.' " 


"ERODELPHIANS"  375 

"Do  you  really  suppose  that's  what  it  means?"  she 
exclaimed. 

"Of  course  it  does — wait  and  see  if  the  next  letter 
does  not  tell  us  of  their  marriage.  Well,  I'm  sure 
glad  for  Billy." 

"I'm  glad  for  Lu,"  said  Janey,  thoughtfully.  "Since 
matters  are  settled  between  Ned  and  Mamie,  I'll  not 
worry  half  so  much  about  the  girls  and  how  they  are 
getting  along  at  home.  I  always  knew  Lu  liked  him, 
and  I  thought  Billy  would  awaken  to  his  right  senses 
after  a  while  and  know  his  own  mind." 


Looking  forward  into  the  future,  years  seem  to 
stretch  out  endlessly;  but  looking  backward  we  dis- 
cover the  time  has  been  swift  in  its  passing.  Two 
years  and  more  have  slipped  quickly  by  since  the 
above  message  was  cabled  across  the  seas,  and  the 
time  of  Robert  and  Janey's  allotted  stay  in  a  foreign 
land  is  rapidly  nearing  the  end.  Baby  Eleanor  is  fast 
growing  into  a  dark-eyed  little  lass,  and  proper  oppor- 
tunities for  her  schooling  must  in  a  year  or  two  be 
taken  into  consideration.  For  her  sake  as  well  as  to 
be  again  at  home  with  friends  and  dear  ones,  they 
are  looking  forward  to  their  return,  and  yet  with 
regret  because  of  the  dear  people  there  whom  they 
have  learned  to  love  and  must  leave  behind ;  for  the 
responsibilities  of  the  mission  will  still  cling  to  them 
long  after  they  leave  the  islands.. 

At  Banforth  there  have  been  changes  and  gome 
progress.  The  work  of  the  church  has  not  been  neg- 


376  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

lected,  but  has  been  maintained  in  a  gradual,  steady 
growth  under  the  wise  leadership  of  Elder  Clayton, 
who  returned  home  with  his  family  a  year  ago  and 
has  since  presided  over  the  district.  Having  been 
ordained  to  the  office  of  high  priest  and  appointed 
as  bishop  of  the  district,  Billy  is  energetically  second- 
ing his  efforts  in  every  way.  As  such  bishop  he  is 
a  wise  and  careful  steward,  faithful  in  the  discharge 
of  his  duties,  and  conscientious  and  honest  in  all  mat- 
ters of  business  of  whatever  nature. 

There  is  an  unpretentious,  though  new  and  mod- 
ern little  house  down  the  street  not  far  from  the 
brown  cottage  which  Lu's  capable  hands  and  brains 
and  heart  have  transformed  into  an  ideal  home,  one 
of  pleasing  comfort,  but  not  extravagant  luxury. 
Ned  is  still  away  pursuing  his  college  work,  and 
Madeline,  the  bloom  of  health  again  in  her  cheeks,  a 
happy,  carefree  school-girl,  lives  with  her  sister. 

Busy  at  his  desk  in  the  bank  late  one  evening,  Billy 
reaches  over  and  takes  out  a  bulky  envelope  from  one 
of  the  pigeon  holes.  Taking  the  papers  out  he  looks 
at  them  a  few  seconds,  a  thoughtful  frown  on  his 
face.  As  administrator  of  the  estate  which  is  solely 
comprised  of  the  Little  Brown  Cottage  and  its  yard 
and  garden  plot,  he  finds  it  necessary  to  make  some 
disposition  of  the  property.  Ned  has  written  that 
he  is  needing  his  share,  and  suggests  the  advisability 
of  its  sale.  All  are  aware  that  it  is  no  longer  a  mat- 
ter of  good  business  to  hold  it,  standing  as  it  is  with- 
out modern  equipment,  badly  needing  repairs,  and 
daily  decreasing  in  value. 


"ERODELPHIANS"  377 

Billy  runs  his  fingers  through  his  hair,  rumpling 
it  in  careless  fashion  while  he  hesitates,  remember- 
ing his  wife's  look  of  distress  when  he  had  spoken 
to  her  that  morning  of  the  necessity  for  its  sale. 

"I  know  it's  foolish  to  think  of  keeping  it,"  she 
had  said,  "but  it's  so  hard  to  think  of  parting  with 
it." 

Billy  leans  back  in  his  chair.  Again  the  memory 
of  his  wife's  pained  face  as  she  signed  the  papers 
consenting  to  its  sale,  comes  to  him.  A  new  idea 
flashes  into  his  mind.  "The  very  thing,"  he  says, 
with  the  old  impulsiveness  so  characteristic  of  him, 
"I'll  do  it." 

He  leans  forward,  takes  up  his  pen,  and  writes  rap- 
idly for. a  few  moments,  then  folding  the  papers, 
thrusts  them  into  the  pigeonhole  and  closes  his  desk. 

It  is  some  weeks  later  when  he  hurries  home  in 
the  middle  of  the  morning.  He  is  in  gay  spirits.  In 
the  hallway  he  catches  up  Billy,  junior,  from  the  floor 
where  he  sits  playing,  and  tosses  him  to  his  shoulder. 
He  finds  his  wife  busy  at  the  kitchen  sink  washing  up 
the  baking  dishes. 

"What's  brought  you  home  this  time  of  the  morn- 
ing?" she  asks  as  the  two  Billies  enter  the  kitchen. 
"I  thought  you  were  going  to  be  unusually  busy  to- 
day." 

"And  so  I  am,"  answered  Billy,  senior.  "But  I've 
something  to  show  you." 

Lu  lays  aside  her  dishtowel  and  takes  the  long 
envelope  he  hands  her,  opening  it  to  find — a  deed  to 
the  brown  cottage. 


378  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

"Oh !"  is  all  she  can  say  at  first,  the  smiles  on  her 
face,  the  glad  tears  in  her  eyes.  "But  can  we  really 
afford " 

"I  thought,"  he  interrupts,  while  Billy,  junior, 
crows  with  delight  and  pulls  at  the  thick  mop  of  his 
father's  hair,  "that  Robert  and  Janey  would  be  home 
before  a  great  while.  They  have  little  to  start  house- 
keeping with  and  no  chance  to  earn  money  for  a 
home.  If  you'll  help  me  with  the  plans  we  might  re- 
model and  make  it  comfortable  for  them.  You  know 
Janey  paid  the  mortgage  on  it  several  years  ago,  so 
the  larger  share  of  the  estate  falls  to  her  anyway, 
and  she  and  Robert  have  asked  me  to  take  care  of 
her  portion  and  invest  it  till  they  return.  By  adding 
a  little  we  can " 

"Oh,  Billy,  I'm  so  glad,  and  it's  so  good  of  you 


As  he  goes  whistling  to  his  work  a  few  minutes 
later  Lu  sits  down  in  the  middle  of  the  kitchen  floor 
to  play  with  her  young  son  and  console  him  over  his 
father's  departure,  while  she  wipes  away  the  happy 
tears  from  her  own  eyes. 

Without  further  delay,  and  full  of  enthusiasm, 
the  two  have  set  to  work.  The  cottage  has  been 
visited  many  times  and  plans  made.  The  old  timbers 
are  good,  so  the  remodeling  is  not  a  difficult  matter, 
and  Lu  is  already  planning  some  little  homey  touches 
for  the  inside.  Baby  Eleanor's  room,  for  instance, 
which  is  really  nothing  more  than  a  tiny  alcove,  is 
to  have  a  little  white  bed  and  dresser  and  dainty 
curtains,  two  or  three  Dutch  scenes  in  blue,  and  a 


"ERODELPHIANS"  379 

picture  of  the  Christ  child  in  sepia.  And  so  the  little 
brown  cottage  will  soon  be  changed  into  a  better  and 
more  comfortable  dwelling  place  than  ever  before, 
and  under  the  title  of  the  Little  Brown  Bungalow 
will  enter  upon  a  new  era  of  service  for  those  who 
have  long  loved  it  and  called  it  home. 

There  are  one  or  two  others  we  wish  to  mention. 
Mr.  Gibson  has  retired  from  ranch  life,  leaving  his 
Dakota  acres  in  the  care  of  his  daughter  Sally  and 
his  son-in-law.  He  and  his  wife,  with  Nelse  and 
Pansy,  have  settled  in  Banforth,  where  every  day  he 
can,  if  he  desires,  limp  over  to  his  son's  home  and 
spend  many  hours  with  Billy,  junior. 

"I  'low,"  he  often  declares,  as  he  trots  his  lusty 
grandson  on  his  knee,  "that  that  boy's  the  best  and 
smartest  one  on  airth.  There  ain't  another  like  him 
in  the  whole  United  States,  from  the  Atlantic  to  the 
Pacific." 

As  a  member  of  the  Banforth  Branch  Mr.  Gibson 
stands  a  stalwart  figure,  firm  and  unwavering  in  the 
doctrine  and  faith  of  Christ  as  taught  in  ancient  and 
latter  times,  and  in  his  own  unique  way  he  serves 
as  a  wise  adviser  to  the  many  who  come  to  seek  his 
counsel. 


380  A  VINEYARD    STORY 


CHAPTER   38 

"HOW  BLESSED  ARE  THEY  WHO  HAVE  LABORED 
DILIGENTLY  IN  HIS  VINEYARD" 

I  KNOW  you  will  be  asking  who  are  these  char- 
acters in  my  story.  You  may  be  surprised  when 
I  answer  that  in  one  sense  they  are  typical  of 
many.  And  I  would  assure  you  that  you  have  but  to 
look  closely  in  order  to  discover,  the  same  as  I,  the 
Roberts  and  Janeys,  the  Billies  and  Lus,  the  Neds 
and  Mamies.  "Where?"  you  ask  with  incredulity. 
They  are  all  around  you  and  may  be  very  near  you.  In 
the  schools  of  our  land,  in  its  colleges,  in  the  streets, 
on  the  farms,  in  the  cities,  in  the  homes,  possibly  at 
your  very  own  hearthstone.  Deep  thoughts  may  be 
stirring  the  heart  of  that  youth  who  so  cleverly  hides 
his  real  feelings  under  a  brusqueness  of  manner 
and  carelessness  of  words;  and  serious  desires  and 
purposes  often  slumber  beneath  the  mask  of  frivolity 
and  gay  indifference  of  that  happy  girl. 

With  his  broad  vision  and  his  great  understanding 
of  the  motives  in  human  hearts,  God  is  able  to  look 
beyond  these  outward  demonstrations  of  frivolity 
and  seeming  indifference,  beneath  the  merry  light- 
ness which  so  frequently  bubbles  over  out  of  happy, 
growing  young  hearts,  and  looking  through  this  he 
may  there  behold  a  depth  of  purity  and  beauty  and 
coming  usefulness  which  we  with  our  shortsighted 
vision  fail  to  perceive.  And  if  perchance  he  should 


"HOW  BLESSED   ARE   THEY"  381 

sometime,  in  his  wisdom  and  by  his  grace,  permit 
you  to  stand  beside  him  while  for  a  moment  he 
brushed  away  this  outward  mask  from  a  young 
heart,  and  you  looked  upon  it  as  he  looks  down  upon 
it,  you  would  see  in  it  a  likeness  to  some  rare,  white, 
wonderful  blossom,  slowly  unfolding  its  delicate 
petals  to  the  sunshine  of  His  love,  disclosing  only  by 
degrees  its  beauty  and  fragrance.  As  you  watched 
this  slow  unfolding  process,  you  would  rejoice  and 
marvel  in  its  promise,  and  no  longer  wonder  at  the 
preciousness  of  a  young  soul  in  His  sight. 

God  is  watching  over  his  vineyard.  He  has  not  for- 
saken, nor  is  he  neglecting  it.  Rapidly  he  is  hasten- 
ing his  work  towards  its  consummation,  that  its 
plants  may  not  all  be  destroyed.  His  watchcare  is 
still  lovingly  assured  to  the  laborers.  For  the  aged 
ones  who  have  served  him  long  and  faithfully  he 
holds  in  his  hand  a  sweet  reward.  To  the  ones  who 
are  now  bearing  the  heavy  labor  and  responsibility, 
he  extends  and  reiterates  his  cheering  promises ;  but 
to  the  youth  he  is  beckoning  and  calling,  and  from 
among  them  he  expects  to  find  those  who  shall  help 
to  swell  the  numbers  of  his  laborers  until  they  shall 
become  very  great. 

Deep  in  the  hearts  of  his  young  people  he  recog- 
nizes the  hidden  springs  of  a  powerful  reserve  force 
which  at  the  pressure  of  his  finger  will  be  released 
and  utilized.  And  like  the  silent,  invisible  forces  of 
nature  when  placed  under  control  and  put  into  ac- 
tion, their  strength  shall  be  increased  and  multiplied 
many  fold.  God's  hand  is  moving  among  them,  and 


382  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

there  are  those  who  will  make  themselves  ready.  He 
understands  the  latent  powers  and  possibilities,  and 
he  knows  that,  abetted  by  his  own  will  and  strength, 
with  his  hand  upon  the  lever,  he  may  make  of  them  a 
mighty,  energizing  force  which  shall  be  felt  to  the 
utmost  parts  of  the  vineyard. 

Undoubtedly  the  years  remaining  are  few  in 
which  this  work  is  to  be  done,  and  clearer  and 
stronger  every  day  rings  out  the  call  for  workers. 
The  hour  is  pressing  upon  us  when  the  call  must  be 
heeded,  when  the  good  branches  remaining  must  be 
gathered  out  and  planted,  and  the  garden  spot  (his 
Zion)  established,  that  the  Master  of  the  vineyard 
may  be  received.  They  are  coming,  and  we  believe 
they  will  continue  to  come  in  response  to  this  call. 
Faintly  at  first  they  catch  the  sound.  "It  does  not 
means  us/'  they  say,  hesitatingly,  and  with  doubt.  "It 
must  mean  others  who  are  more  ready  and  capable 
than  we."  But  ever  clearer,  louder,  as  it  rings  out, 
the  conviction  comes,  and  by  ones,  by  twos,  and  by 
dozens  they  begin  to  sense  its  meaning,  even  with 
gladness:  "This  call  means  me.  The  Master  has 
found  work  for  me  in  his  vineyard!  Let  me  make 
ready  at  once  for  my  task." 

It  may  require  fortitude,  it  will  require  sacrifice, 
it  must  require  faith  to  accept  just  the  task  the 
Master  sets  for  each  one;  for  it  must  be  a  whole- 
hearted service,  unselfish,  unspoiled  by  the  thought 
of  material  compensation,  and  there  will  doubtless 
be  those  who  will  turn  aside  sadly,  as  did  the  young 
man  long  ago,  and  who  shall  say  to  themselves :  "This 


"HOW  BLESSED   ARE   THEY"  383 

is  not  the  task  I  would  have  sought.  The  Master  is 
a  hard  one  to  require  this  of  me.  I  will  refuse  to 
work  in  his  vineyard,  for  he  has  not  chosen  as  I 
would  have  chosen." 

We  have  the  hope  that  of  such  as  these  there  will 
be  few,  and  we  have  the  confidence  that  there  will 
be  many  who  will  be  willing  to  abide  by  the  Master's 
own  choosing,  and  will  be  ready  to  sacrifice,  to  do 
and  to  endure;  to  accept  each  his  own  niche,  whether 
it  be  at  home  or  abroad,  in  college  halls  or  at  humble 
task,  a  place  where  others  seeing  can  applaud,  or  one 
of  obscurity  and  unnoticed.  At  every  kind  of  task  of 
brain  and  muscle  they  will  be  needed,  and  we  trust 
that  in  every  vocation  there  will  be  those  prepared 
and  willing  to  work  out  his  designs.  They  have  their 
decisions  to  make  as  others  have  made  theirs;  they 
have  their  battles  to  fight  as  older  ones  have  fought 
before  them ;  they  have  their  temptations  to  meet  as 
the  youth  in  all  ages  have  been  tempted  and  tested ; 
but  who  shall  say  they  cannot,  under  his  protection 
and  in  his  strength,  accomplish  the  divine  purpose  of 
the  hour? 

With  an  ear  bent  close  to  the  vibrating,  sobbing 
earth  they  are  sensing  the  pathos,  the  hopelessness  of 
that  mourning  call  of  stricken  millions  as  it  comes 
from  wrecked  homes  and  blood-stained  battlefields. 
And  as  they  bend  listening  to  this  plea  for  human 
sympathy  and  eternal  hope,  with  the  other  ear  lifted 
and  attuned  to  receive  the  messages  of  the  Infinite, 
they  catch  the  clear,  far-ringing,  tender  call  of  the 
Master  of  the  vineyard,  and  arise  with  courage  and 


384  A  VINEYARD    STORY 

faith  to  respond.  So  shall  they  hear,  and  in  heeding 
move  forward  with  unselfish  devotion  and  carry  or 
help  others  to  carry,  to  the  anguished  and  broken- 
hearted ones  of  the  nations  this  sweet,  comforting, 
soul-stirring,  hope-inspiring,  life-giving  message: 

"God  is  not  dead,  nor  doth  he  sleep, 
The  wrong  shall  fail, 
The  right  prevail, 
With  peace  on  earth  good  will  to  men." 

Becoming  thus  laborers  together  with  God  in  pro- 
claiming this  beautiful  message  of  peace,  there  will 
come  a  daily  compensation  of  unmeasured  joy  and 
satisfaction  which  more  than  requites  for  any  sacri- 
fice, or  toil,  or  the  relinquishing  of  worldly  ambitions ; 
and  when  the  final  pruning  and  nourishing  is  com- 
pleted, they  will  realize  as  it  is  declared,  "How 
blessed  are  they  who  have  labored  diligently  in  his 
vineyard." 


23  APR 


